


Blooming Flowers

by Iamsuperconfused



Series: Reflections [2]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Angst, F/M, Gen, Heavy Angst, Homophobia, Light Angst, Maggie Sawyer Backstory, Redemption, Religious Discussion, Religious Guilt, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, THIS IS HARD TO WRITE, domestic abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 15:24:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14718671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iamsuperconfused/pseuds/Iamsuperconfused
Summary: This work centers around Maggie Sawyer's estranged mother and will focus on events that might lead her back into her daughter's life. The road to reunite the two is long and difficult for sure and it starts with Florencia's return to Blue Spring following a trip in National City.Religion, Homophobia and Domestic Abuse of varied kind will be discussed and visited in this story. Look for each chapter's note for further warnings in each chapter.RECOMMENDATION: This fic can be read as a stand-alone, but be warned that I'm writing it as a companion piece toNot Forgottenspecifically this happens after chapter 36. Which means there is no Sanvers and no Supercorp to be found at the end of this, only DimplesCorp (MaggiexLena) , AgentReign and Karolsen.ART: There is fanart of Florencia & Jamie in Chapter 8





	1. Blue Springs (Part 1)

**Author's Note:**

> Oscar Rodas is the official name for Maggie's father on the TV show. Florencia Rodas is the name I went with for her mother.

**Chapter Warning: Minor Domestic abuse.**

The moment the bus passes the derelict sign that reads ‘Welcome to Blue Springs’ on the edge of the tiny village, she expect things to feel like home again. Reality falls short of her expectation, street signs pass by and she can’t read them through her tears. Every thing built in town feels tired, heavy and old, the same feeling settle in her limbs, in her bones, a little too comfortably, her body is harder to move, it’s harder to think with the weight of time pressing down, it feels suffocating. When the bus stops, the peaceful feeling of a home does not settle, there is no time to dwell on it, she sees him.

Her husband awaits her outside, with open arms and a charming smile. “Florencia!” he strides to his wife and welcomes her into his arm, kissing her brow, letting the woman lean into him, letting the relief of normalcy settle on his own shoulder. “Let’s get you home now, Florecita. You had a long trip!” he attempt to step toward the car, but he’s pulled back by his wife and grumbling protest as she buries her face in his chest..

It’s comforting, the warmth of the man she shares everything with, misery and joy, pain and healing. Surrounding her completely, when he moves, she doesn’t. “Stay here, I’ve been alone for days now. Car can wait.” she mumbles almost incoherently into his chest, gaining a piece of the peace she wishes on every moment since her fateful meeting with her estranged daughter and grand daughter.

“Come Florencia, I’ve cooked you something. You know how rare that is.” He insist with a kind and joyful countenance and tugs her along to his car, she follows but there is resistance in every step. “Stop dragging your feet!” his eroding patience cut the sweetness with bitterness.

“Do we have to hurry so much!?” Her own frustration seep into her voice, the distance between the warmth and presence she wants is enough to let the haunting images of her trip dance behind her eyes.

“If you want to eat a warm meal, yes!” A theatrical sweep of his arm, urging his wife toward the car. He courteously bow and opens the door for her.

“Fine!” She gives up, it’s easier this way. Smacking him on the shoulder.

She gets into the passenger seat, letting him drive in peace, he hates to be touched when he’s driving, too distracting, he says. Each houses, fences and shop feels like a familiar movie playing before her eyes. It feels the exact same way it did when she left a week ago, too familiar, too much of the same old sights. The people still wears those polite smiles, but only because they want to stay on the sheriff’s good side. “What’d you cook?”

“White bean soup and chicken Parmesan.” He’s so proud the way he says it and he completely misses the side - glare from his wife.

“Could we stop at the market?” Maybe she could at least get a dessert she likes, instead of being fed his favorite meal.

“We can go tomorrow? I really want to get you home, you really look tired.” He insist, a hint of worry in his face.

“Oscar, stop at the damn market or so help me.” Her eyes narrow at him as she utter the threat.

 

* * *

 

It’s how the bickering start: Over a rice pudding craving and a lukewarm meal, then it continues over the dishes and the state of the house. The walls shake when he’s angry, a picture frame shatters on the floor when he slams the door to the bedroom, Shouting at her to clean the broken glass.

Each pieces of the broken frame gets put inside an old empty shoe box, the resulting dust is swept and dropped in the box as well. Florencia examines the broken frame, pulling the pictures free of it once she figures out to get past the broken parts and she set them on the nearby shelf. She struggle to her feet and step outside the house to pour the content of the shoe box into their trashcan, broken glass and wood tearing at the plastic bag. She greets their neighbor casually and she feels a pang of relief when they decide not to come over and chat.

There’s a little draft when she gets back inside, it blows the pictures off the shelf, scattering them around the room. Florencia picks them from the ground and her mind blanks, at the back of the pile is a picture of an eleven years old Maggie sitting on her lap. She places it inside of her purse, hidden inside of a pocket within which she keeps her tampons. She’s drawn from her daydream by the clamoring voice of her husband.

“Would you just come to bed, you’re so tired you’ve been cranky since you stepped off the bus! You need your sleep!”

“I wasn’t cranky when I got out! I got cranky because you’re selfish!” She raise her voice so he can hear her. She hears him step out of the bed, swing the door of their bedroom open.

“Oh I’m selfish for letting you go on that trip to California!? I’m selfish because I spent the day cooking for you? I’m selfish because I’m worried about you being tired?”

“You’re selfish because you cooked yourself a meal you like! If you were cooking for me you’d have made my favorite not yours!” she jab a finger in his chest, not even spending a moment wondering where that came from. “You didn’t let me go to California, I had to beg for it for days! When you didn’t even tell me when you went there behind my back!” She tries to get past him and into their bedroom, but he blocks the way. “You just want to get me into bed because you’re hoping to have sex with me! If you were so worried--” SLAP!

At first she think about giving him the same fierce, furious glare she saw in her daughter’s eyes back in the middle of that shopping mall, but the pain on her cheek grows too fast, his shouting is so loud and all she can feel is fear locking her body from moving and she’s not even certain what he’s shouting about. He appears to calm down, just for a moment, but he’s about wind up again when finally, she comes up with words. “Enough! sorry! I just want to go to bed.” she rushes past him and get into bed without changing out of her clothes.

 

* * *

 

She never sleeps this close to the edge of the bed, never clings so hard to her pillow, never hopes his snoring gets this deep. It’s fear that keeps her awake at first, when he comes back in the room, when he lays in bed and wishes her good night through gritted teeth, as if he didn’t just back-hand her in the face, as if she should be okay with it. Then it’s disgust that makes it impossible to fall asleep, when his snoring deepen, when his body goes still enough not to worry. It’s how her skin crawls and feels like it recoils from even the most casual of touches that the modest size of their bed forces.

It’s how when she gets up earlier than him the next day, to check on any mark the hit might leave, there’s nothing to see on her face and how the disgust twisting at the back of her mind slowly become shame. It makes her wish her eyes in the mirror, could look like her daughter’s did when she dared slap her. Hypocrisy is the least of the sins her mind makes a list of to her.

In a hurry to escape her thoughts, she rush out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, she breaks eggs, drop the bacon in the pan and pour milk in the pile of cereal, the smells fill the house and it makes her stomach turn in odd ways. Florencia pretends this wasn’t meant to be her breakfast when her appetite disappear and drop the steaming hot plate on the table, at her husband’s usual place. She briefly considers going out, to the market and to the church, but fear has made a nest in her mind and chains her inside the house.

He comes out of the bedroom, risen by the smell, he’s already wearing his sheriff uniform, though the shirt is not yet buttoned up, the belt still being looped in his slacks. “Morning.” his voice croaks, heavy with sleep as he makes his way to the bathroom, where he takes ten minute to shave and clean up. Oscar appears to have shaken off any leftover sleepiness when he comes out. There is a slump in his shoulder, when he sees his wife staring out the windows like a sad songbird. He ignores the food on the table for now and walks to her, sets a hand on her back and she tense. “Me disculpo, Florencia” he murmurs.

“Your breakfast is getting cold.” Her gaze falls to her purse, dangling from the back of her chair. “I’ll go to the market and go see the pastor today.” it sound like she’s seeking permission and shame clouds her mind again, her throat squeezing tight. “I should be back in time for dinner.” she tries to sound a little more confident, but only manage to sound upset.

“Sure.” Oscar grumble as he steps back from her, grabbing his breakfast and the moment he sit down to eat; Florencia is out of the house.

 

* * *

 

It happens while she’s looking for the latest fashion magazines, the rack is fully stocked with a surprisingly varied array. She’s not a usually drawn to fashion, but her trip in the big city lit up the desire to keep up with the world in some way, she picks the latest CatCo edition and stares at the cover page. It’s the picture of Maggie shaking hand with the President of the United State, it’s also the title written to underline the photo that gives her an adrenaline rush. ‘Celebrate a true hero, all about the new PSO Medal of Valor recipient and her heroic deeds on page 20“ she put the magazine inside the shopping cart, face-down.

Pride and guilt dance around her thoughts, her stomach squeeze and she lose her appetite again, she’ll forces herself to eat a bite on the way to church. Her husband often talks about asking the right question in a situation to get the right answers, to look for the right things. She pays for her items, ignoring the strange look from the cashier, from the other customers in line as she leaves, almost in a hurry.

She sits in one of the pews at the church, the magazine open on her lap, at the 20th page. She reads it once, twice and narrowly convince herself not to read it a third time. Maggie is a hero, for saving the president’s life, for fighting against an alien invasion, for exposing corruption in the justice system and yet there is only that defiant, fierce glare in Florencia’s thoughts. “What have I done to you?” she murmur, putting the magazine face down in her grocery bag.

“How was your trip, Miss Rodas?” The pastor takes a seat in the same pew, but he gives her some distance. “Are you happy to be back home at last?”

“My trip went well.” Her eyes rise from her lap to the cross above the altar, her hand joins together. “No, I’m not happy to be home. I miss the big city already.” there is no point in lying to the pastor, as a man of god, as he is meant to provide guidance.

“I’m surprised, You seem like you enjoy the calm life of this town.” He grows curious with his concern.

“Nothing changes here, nothing grows, nothing new.” Anger rise at the back of her throat. “Well, no, there are new things, just... nothing gets better.” she squeeze her intertwined fingers together. “I was gone for a week, no one but me have stories to tell. Miss Jackson still looks at me like I’m an intruder, Anne still think I can’t hear her call me a wetback to her dog and Mr Campbell, the mailman? Still stares right at my chest every time we meet.”

The pastor grows quiet for a moment, there is no trace of surprise or dismay. Nothing new indeed. They sit in silence for a few minutes and they both end up mumbling through a casual set of prayers. “What do you miss about the big city?”

“Just the chance of something happening, life being about more than watching old buildings lose bits of themselves everyday.” Florencia gesture around her, the movement are slower, but are no less about her despair than when her daughter mirrored them while screamed at her. “I missed home.. no, I missed the idea of home a lot while I was there.”

“Keep your life free from love of having, and be content with what you have, for he has said, 'I will never leave you nor forsake you.'” The pastor recite, likely from memory, a passage from the holy book. “You have a good, simple life here Miss Rodas, you should be grateful”

Florencia frowns, recognizing the passage from having heard it many times before, it feels wrong, it feels chaffing and there is no words coming from her lips, no words coming from her heart to defend against how strangely painful the words are, she takes a look at the pastor and see him recoil from her, she looks away.

“Did I say something to upset you, Miss Rodas?”

“I’ve read this passage of the bible before. I just thought about it differently.” A shrug of her should as she begin to gather her bag and her denim jacket. “Thank you for taking the time to offer your thoughts. I’ll go back home now.”

“Have a good day, Miss Rodas.” He leave her alone, goes to the Altar and obviously spend a moment praying.

As she steps down at the church’s step, words keeps failing her, she can’t find the ones she needs to express how wrong the pastor is to her, how even the tone he uses cause anger from her core. The same disgust felt at her husband’s touch in the night now gnaw at her own lack of words. “What do I know.”

 

* * *

 

There’s flowers in his hands when she crosses the threshold of her home, her favorite meal on the stove and tears in her eyes. It’s an odd mixture of feeling: relief and regrets, peace and pain that dance in her heart. A little smile appear and she set her bags down near the door.

He greets her with a smile and gives her the flowers, she smells them and the smile grows and the tears falls. Whileshe carefully tends to the flowers, putting them in a vase with water, Oscar watches her, he knows she’s hiding her tears, hiding her smile. “Florencia?” he speaks when she spends just that little bit too long arranging the flowers.

A sigh and a turn, she isn’t hiding her tears. “All I wanted yesterday was for you to hug me when I stepped out of the bus, I just wanted to be in your arms and for you to hold me.” Florencia approaches him and put both of her hand on to his chest. “All I wanted yesterday was for you to just hold me and make everything better, make me feel welcome, make me feel home.”

Oscar put his hand on his wife’s shoulders, squeezing gently. “I can do better than what happened last night.” he move his hand to her face, caressing the spot he hit. “That won’t happen again, I promise.”

There is fear in her eyes, words fails her again. Her hands grabs at his shirt and she clings, her lip tremble and more tear pours. “I’m scared.” it’s a meek explanation for her feeling.

“Please forgive me, I’m so sorry Florencia” he lower his head and tears fall down, hitting her arms.

“I forgive you.” she knows it’s not honest, fear is still coiling in her heart, leashing the truth from passing through her lips. Florencia can’t tell if he notice how dishonest she feels, but the hug that follows feels just a little bit less like home than it did yesterday.


	2. Blue Springs (part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Problems between Oscar and Florencia cause them to re-evaluate their relationship and their places in relation to their church, faith and family. Will their answers differs ? Find out that this is probably the most inaccurate way of describing this chapter I could come up with by reading further! (please)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Domestic Abuse  
> TW: Mention of past child abuse.  
> TW: Homophobia all over the place.  
> TW: Minor, non domestic violence.
> 
> In return: PUPPY! (Toward the end, Bert)

It’s been a month since her trip to National City, her house is not a home to her anymore, everyday it becomes more of a prison, it keeps her thoughts on a narrow focus. She goes through the motion everyday, even today: there’s a meal on the table as the sun sets, the laundry is folded and the house is clean. There’s a plastic bag dangling from the back of her seat at the table, a can of beer and a sandwich in it. Her mind is overtaken by grief and fear, it’s all she can think about, when the day quiet down, there is only one place her mind can go these days. When her husband return, it pulls her from her thoughts with a startled look.

“Are you okay Florencia ? You’ve been looking sick for a few days now” He worries, rightfully. She looks pale, tired and her hands are trembling, her hair looks as if she hadn’t groomed them today. “Do you want to go to the doctor tomorrow?”

”I don‘t want to go to the doctor, I don‘t feel ill.” The words don‘t feel entirely honest as she speaks them and her shoulder sags. “We really need to talk.” Her voice tremble, she shivers and her fingers fiddles with a spoon, nervously.

Oscar nods and takes his seat at the table, he start to eat, making a gesture of the hand to his wife, encouraging her to speak. He clearly believe her ill, his worries weighting on him.. “I’m listening Florencia, you can tell me anything, I’m here for you.” He expect it to be about the slap, he expect it to be about his tendency to drink before coming home.

“I want my daughter back.” It’s the first time that Florencia brings up her daughter on her own, whenever the topic comes up, it’s usually by her husband or a relative wondering what the girl is doing now. “I don’t know if you don’t know or if you hid it from me, but Margarita has a daughter, Oscar. She’s at least eight years old.”

Oscar drops his fork, the sound breaking the soft tone of the conversation, it makes Florencia flinch. Surprise is written all over his expression and he blink away tears. He holds his hand up in a peace offering to his wife. “I swear to God I did not know, Florencia. When I saw her she was getting married to a woman, there was no child at the ceremony”

“Then maybe she’s keeping her daughter away from her sins.” Through the tears and the pain radiating from her heart, the older woman has a radiant smile, a single shining ray of hope in a storm of darker thoughts.

“Flo, what brought this on?” Oscar disbelieves his wife’s proposed theory, he’s about to speak again but she start before he gets a word in.

“Oscar, I can’t pretend like I’m okay with how things happened with her anymore. For the longest time I had hope She’d return to us, like the prodigal son story.” she close her eyes, her tears hit the table. “She was so angry, Oscar, so furious. She had a daughter and she never told us, no letters, no calls, even her aunt doesn’t know.”

“What else was there to do, Florencia ?!” He exclaim, confusion and pain in the way he speak. “She courted a girl, this isn’t God’s way!”

“She made a mistake! At fourteen years old! And we just gave up on her, we burdened your sister and we did nothing else to help either of them. We just expected a child to know she was wrong without teaching her why, without even trying to! You gave her a whipping and then we threw her out! That’s it! ” Florencia speak with anger, but there is desperation in her too. “We are responsible for her anger and that’s a sin too!”

“She rejected me when I went to her wedding shower, when I tried to help her.” He grumbles and push his meal aside, his appetite gone. He takes deep, deliberate breath, pushing down his anger to better control it.. “I’m sure she didn’t accept your help either.”

“Because she’s angry, because to her we’re the ones that forced her out in the world without preparing her for it! That’s what we were supposed to do! We’re the monsters she wants away from her daughter, Oscar--” Florencia almost retch when she forces the words out. “--and I can’t find it in me to disagree with her.”

“Florencia, Margarita is thirty one years old, she is not a child anymore.” He stand up, she flinches again. Oscar doesn’t notice and he opens the pantry, taking a small pack of crackers, which he opens sitting back down. “She chose to live her life in sin, she’s old enough to know better and we’ve been here, we’re still here, she knows where we are and it’s her turn to try, because we did.”

“Oscar, please. I want to know my granddaughter. I want the family you promised me when we got married, I’m done waiting for a miracle.” Florencia pleads, almost beg through her tears. “We can make it happen, together.”

“Enough! You’re not being reasonable. We’re done speaking about this.” He grumbles the words out and forces himself to eat, staring at his plate with an empty stare. The silence is too much for his wife, he knows, but words fails him too this time.

“If you won’t make the effort to fix our family, Oscar, I’m sorry but I can’t love you anymore. This home’s been broken for long enough, I’m out.” Florencia leaves the table, her food untouched, she grabs the bag from her seat and step outside of the house, leaving her husband to stare quietly at his meal.

 

* * *

 

She sits in the park, staring at the dirt road from which the buses come and go in town, the bitter taste of beer on her tongue, the sandwich is on her lap, half eaten, she hears him walks behind her and she doesn’t need to look to know it’s her husband. “You change your mind?” her voice tremble, bereft of hope.

“Why can’t you see it my way?” He ask beneath his breath, staring the same way as his wife, thinking about the bus trip they took separately but ran through the same path.

“I’ve seen it your way for the past sixteen years, Oscar, I’m the one who should be making that demand.” She makes a dismissive hand gesture at him “Clearly your way doesn’t work.” The reply is spiteful and rough, there is nothing stopping the vicious anger from pouring out of her soul. The empty can in her hand fueling her courage, burying her feelings under a layer of unease.

“You’re being too emotional about this, the path to God isn’t ours to pave for her, she needs to come home on her own, we’ve shown her we want her back, it’s her turn to show she want to be back.” He explains once again, almost whispering so no one can answer.

“You went there and trashed her wedding shower and I slapped her in the face in front of her daughter, Oscar.” she glares at him as her word drips with caustic sarcasm. “I think the message got lost in translation.” Florencia stand up and walk further into the park. “I’m not going back on what I told you, I can’t love you if you don’t work with me to get her back.”

“I’m the leader of this household and I decide what we do! I’m tired of your temper tantrum, I’ve made my decision clear and it’s final.” His anger spew loudly from his mouth, as he goes after Florencia, walking with a furious pace, when he reaches her she simply turn to face him.

“Then I want out of this household, It doesn’t have my daughter in it, so there’s no point in me being there.” The word are spiteful and painful. “I want a divorce.” she almost growl the words at him, getting in his face.

Oscar, in his great fury, shoves Florencia and she stumbles back then falls to the ground, her fall is broken by the grass, she grunt at the impact. As she tries to get up, Oscars bellows furiously at her “FINE! YOU’LL GET YOUR DAMN DIVORCE!” he spits on her, turns heels and he walks out of the park.

Florencia struggle to stand up, alone in the middle of the park, she wipes the spit from her shirt and watches on as her husband walks away without looking back. Her first instinct is to chase after him, try calm him, to take back her words, that instinct is fueled with every fiber of her being, with every fear, everything she knows. Florencia stand still, she refuse to take a step forward, standing her ground as her world start crumbling. “I wish I knew how to convince you."

 

* * *

 

Florencia knocks on the door, immediately regrets it and starts pacing in front the door, clutching her purse too tight in her hands, bothered by the sound of her own steps. After a moment, locks are opened, the door part open slightly, a young black woman, likely in her early twenties answers the door, an unfamiliar sight around this house.

“Yeah?” The girl asks, guarding herself and peeking around for anyone else. “What is it?”

“Does Amada still lives here ?” Florencia asks, wringing her hands.

“Yeah, what do you want?” the young woman is getting impatient with the visitor.

“I need to speak with her, I won’t take long, I’ll just speak with her in the lobby and leave quickly if you could get her.” Florencia almost mumble, trying to keep her demands simple and un-obstrusive as she can.

“Uh, yeah that’s not happening, you get to the living room and you talk to her there.” There’s an edge of humor and mockery in the way the girl speak. She opens the door and just walks to the kitchen. “It’s a woman coming to speak with you, mi querida”

Amada is in the living room, sitting on her couch with her legs propped up on pillows and in casts, she is paler than she ought to be and most her hair has fallen out, her expression goes from hopeful to bitter in an instant when Florencia comes into view. “tienes trece años de retraso” she spit the words with venom. “What do you want.”

“I won’t be here long, Amada.” Florencia stands near the entrance of the living room, not daring to intrude in the woman’s space. “I have questions about Margarita, you know her more than I ever did.”

“Of course you won’t be here long.” Amada grits her teeth “Come closer at least, I don’t hear very well.” she make a gesture of her hand. “Margarita is Tequila, Lime juice, Orange Juice and salt on the rim.” the joke is bitter and biting. “Or do you mean the girl you abandoned here ? It’s hard to know which you care about the most.”

Florencia bow her head and nod, she tries not to let her irritation show in her response. “I mean the girl, I’m divorcing your brother, I’m leaving town and I’d like to know more about her, or if you could give me a picture or something.”

Amada sigh and relent her hostile attitude for the moment. “I’m afraid I don’t know her all that much, Florencia.” the sickly woman throw off the blanket covering her and starting rolling herself a cigarette. “You left me with a bleeding, heartbroken child. Margarita and I didn’t get to know each other very much.” there is more pain than spite in what she says “I didn’t manage to gain her trust in the three years she spent here.”

“Amada...” Florencia doesn’t get to speak further, the woman before her raise her hand to stop her and shake her head.

“Listen for once in your life, and I don’t mean obey, I mean listen to the words i’m saying and try to understand them.” the woman is already out of breath when she light her cigarette on. “I know she went through the police academy, I know she got hired in Gotham, got Married there too.” she cough a bit. “Then I got an invitation to another wedding shower like, recently.” Amada clear her throat. “I couldn’t make it because my body is falling apart and I’m not sure why she bothered inviting me if her father was invited.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry Margarita wasn’t more grateful, Amada, I’m sorry I didn’t do anything to help or thank you.” she’s about to speak more when the ashtray flies at her head, she duck and it shatters against the living room’s doorframe, leaving a dent in the plaster, shards and ashes on the floor.

“Maggie has nothing to be grateful about, NOTHING!” the woman struggle against the urge to stand up on broken legs and make a real attempt to choke Florencia. “La traicionaste!” the most Amada manages is to sit on the couch, facing Florencia. “I couldn’t do anything for her, I barely had anything to give her! I struggled with food, with clothes, with school supplies! It’s your fault that I did, you didn’t even warn me!” she shake her head. “The only reason I stopped trying to make her feel at home is because she begged me to stop.” there is nothing but spite in her eyes “A fifteen year old girl looked me in the eyes and begged me to stop trying to make her feel like family, because that scared her.”

Florencia, tearfully pulls the catco magazine out of her purse and set it on the table next to tobacco and tray that Amada uses to make her cigarette. “Margarita has a daughter, she’s a better cop than her father ever was.” she shrug and looks at the shattered ashtray. “I’m going to go to National City and try to fix things, do you want me to tell her anything?”

“Tell her I want to see her daughter.” Amada is wiping tears off her face. “Sit down, estupida” she point to a smaller couch. “Why are you divorcing Oscar ?”

“He didn’t want to try to get Margarita back with me.” Florencia sit on the edge of the couch and away from the older woman, shame weighting on her shoulder.

“Florencia, you going to see her is not going to go well.” Amada leans forward. “You’re going to have to let go of a lot of these stupid beliefs you have, before you even have a chance of working for her forgiveness.”

“What does that even mean, Amada?” Florencia frowns at the sickly woman, confused.

“I’m saying that maybe you should try questioning what the people in the church tell you.” She wince at the pain when she try to adjust her position to look at her impromptu guest.

“Is questioning the word of God such a good idea, Amada?” Florencia narrows her gaze, skeptical at the suggestion.

“No, estupida. Question who tells you what the word of God is.” She cough more and wheeze a bit. “Read a few books, talk to smart people, stop being dumb.” Amada clear her throat and spit into a pot nearby. “Listen, do you have a phone?” pointing to a cellphone on her table.

“No.” Florencia is staring at the carpet and struggling to keep her tears for herself.

“Of course not.” she take one of the roll paper for her cigarette and writes her number on it with an inkpen she pulls from her small pen box on the floor. “Get one, put this number in and keep me in the loop. I don’t trust you to do this alone and I’m not going to let you hurt her again.”

“Is there any way I can help you and your friend?” She looks toward the kitchen, where the young black woman is still hiding.

“She’s a nurse living here with me and I don’t want you to help.”

“I can at least pay for her work today” Florencia insist.

“You can’t afford her, I don’t want you to and more importantly, she’s already paid for.” Amada point to the shattered glass on the floor. “I guess if you want to help you could pick up the glass there, she’s not my maid and bending over with broken legs sucks.”

Florencia stands up, bending over the gather the broken glass and the ash, putting all of it in a trashcan, dropping by the bathroom to was her hands.

“When are you leaving town?”

“The court date is soon, the moment it’s settled I’ll buy my ticket and get out.”

“Look, I’m not going to apologize for going off on you, you deserve every second of that.” she lays back on the couch and let out a deep sigh of relief. “But I am... I like that you’re making the effort.”

“What happened to you?” Florencia finally ask, hoping the woman would let her care for a moment.

“I fainted climbing up the stairs.” she points to her hair. “I’m in remission from cancer, treatments were exhausting. A bit like you.”

Florencia laughs a little bit at the comment. “I’ll leave you now, thank you Amada. I’ll make it up to you somehow.”

“Let me sleep, estupida.” Mada leans back into her pile of cushion and close her eyes peacefully.

 

* * *

 

The hardest part of the proceeding is that everyone sides with him in some way, there is barely anyone in the immediate family that speaks to her anymore, even the few that are actually related to her are colder, more distant. They don’t understand and they don’t want to hear any explanation and sometimes, Florencia wonders if it’s how her daughter felt when she and Oscar left her at her aunt’s place.

It doesn’t quite take as a much time as most other divorce, her ex-husband being the sheriff he who to speak to, to make the whole affair go faster, it only takes a full month to finalize everything. He keeps most of the physical belongings: the house, the car, the land the two of them rent out to a local farmer. She gets a rather large compensatory sum in exchange, plus damages from all of the clothes and personal effects that Oscar just destroys over the months leading to the final meeting with the judge.

Florencia leaves the courtroom, greets the few member of the family who are there to support him, there’s little enthusiasm in the way they respond. She leaves the courthouse just when Oscar gets out of the courtroom, to avoid the many tearful words of support he’ll get. An old, beat up pick-up truck is waiting for her outside, her brother is at the driver’s seat.

“How’d it go?” He asks gruffly and drives away, leaving a giant cloud of dust behind. He’s older than her, he’s a cook in a hospital who tends to eat a lot of what he makes, ‘how else do I know it’s good?’

“He gets to keep the house, car and land, but I get money.” She set her purse on the backseat, it immediately falls to the floor as the bump in the roads rattle the vehicle.

“Okay.” Her brother respond short and gruff.

“Raffy, Sé que estás enojado” She whispers, almost under her breath, as if she’s scared of his response.

“I’m not angry, I just don’t understand what’s happening and you’ve been real quiet about it.” the truck takes a sharp turn into a dirt road. “It’s been a month, Flo. Come on talk to me.”

“Rafael, do you remember Margarita?” The question is wrought out of sadness and pain. Sixteen year is enough to forget someone.

The question takes him by surprise and he slowly parks the pick up on the side of the road, he clear his throat and looks her way. “What about her?” there is expectation in his voice, in the way he looks at her.

The woman tries to contain her anger, but it‘s the only thing inhabiting her at the moment. “It’s been about sixteen years.” Florencia punch the passenger door with the side of her fist. “Can you believe that I’m an abuela?!” she takes a deep breath, fist clenching, again. “The girl is probably about 8 years old. I only know because I begged this bastard to let me go take a trip in California.” another punch to the passenger door. “Rafael, I want my daughter, I want my nieta and he won’t even try. He slapped me and he shoved me when I tried to convince him.” Another punch at the door and she let out a scream of pain, her eyes watering against her will. “Dios this hurt.”

Rafael grabs at Florencia’s punching arm, it’s a rough, painful moment. “Stop hitting the car.” He close his eyes and release her. “Let’s get you home, my wife can look at that.” He start driving again, starting grumble on his way toward his residence. “Now you’re going to have problems fixing a meal for your girls when you find them! What good is an abuela that can’t cook!?”

The gruff scolding makes Florencia laugh through the pain for a short moment, but it quickly fade, she rocks back and forth as the pain only seem to increase.

His home is in Wymore, just south of Blue Spring, it’s so close that it’s practically the same town, it’s in better state than her old house. He holds the door open for his sister and calls to his wife. “Maria! Can you come here, Florencia hurt herself.” they’re quickly met with the wife and the ridiculously large St-Bernard dog that keeps watch in their home, the dog quickly goes out the door to flop on the front porch. Maria set the first aid kit on the table and invite her sister in law to sit down.

“Sorry to trouble you, Maria, I got angry and tried to punch Rafael’s truck.” the wrist is already swollen and moving her fingers is painful at best, her thumb is numb and even harder to move at all, yet still find the time to tease her brother.

“It’s fine, don’t worry.” Maria puts ice over the wrist, runs her finger over the sore, swollen area. “It’s so swollen I can’t feel the bones, you will want to see a doctor. I’m bandaging it to help keep it still.” she explain just as she wrap the bandage around the wrist. “Don’t use it for anything.” it’s an order,

“Thank you for the hospitality.” Florencia looks to her brother fondly.

“Stay as long as you’d like, Florencia. Not like Bert will let you out yet anyway.” Rafael is amused by how obstrusive the dog is, laying against the door and keeping watch. “Plus it’s been a while since you and I agreed on something.” Everyone laughs.


	3. Blue Springs (Part 3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter relate the final moment Florencia spends in Blue Springs and part of her trip back to National City, where she'll encounter a kind soul to comfort her on the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this is quite the challenge and involves research into views I do not share with like, most of the characters portrayed in here. Which is good since that's the whole point of writing this fic!

The one church in Blue Springs stands proud and beaten under the rain, the erratic rhythm drums over their head incessantly. Within the confessional, Florencia kneels and awaits for the pastor’s arrival, she has to go before today’s mass starts and she arranged a confession with him. The sliding door opens and the man on the other side remains solemnly silent, awaiting the confession.

“Forgive me, father for I have sinned, it is one month since my last Confession.” She pauses, the pain in her wrist tugs at the corner of her mind, the pressure of the pastor’s judgment press down onto her thoughts “I accuse myself of breaking a solemn vow to my husband and divorcing him, I accuse myself of shaming his family with my public accusation. I accuse myself of hatred and violence against my daughter and her daughter, I am truly sorry for the pain these sin have caused and especially the violence I visited upon my daughter and hers.” The breathe she takes after speaking is deep. Admitting that she did wrong to her daughter cause tears to well from her depth.

The pastor exhale loudly, frustration built within the community as a whole for the past month, disputes and rumors poisoning the usually tranquil spirituality of the small parish. “I believe a task of devotion to The Lord’s prayer will guide you while you are away from here, each day upon rising with the sun. Abstain from taking drugs of any kind of the month, focus your thoughts and prayer upon the wrongs you have committed against your child and hers.” He pauses after whispering a prayer. “I do not understand the path you are choosing to walk, but there is a spirituality and a will in motherhood that I can never touch, you have denied yourself this for too long, God bless you on your personal pilgrimage.”

Florencia sees the hand of God through the Priest’s ignorance, she accepts the penance with a bow of her head. The hand that brought violence to her descendence will the cause of her own suffering, it resonate well with her. “Thank you Father for the guidance.” A quick cross motion touches the proper point on her body and she leaves the confessional, startling a few early arrival by her sudden appearance. She gathers her purse and suitcase, then leaves the church quietly, ignoring the sharp looks she gets on the way out. Each steps down tug at her wrist, bringing further pain, halfway down the steps, she drops her purse and the content spills on the steps and on the grass.

She kneels upon the step, working with her one good hand to gather her scattered belongings, no one helps her, no one even looks at her. Until Oscar stops at her side, bending down to help gather a few of the items in the grass. Florencia raise her good arm in a defensive manner, unsure of what he intends to do with the gathered items, lowering her guards when he puts them, albeit unceremoniously into her purse. “Why are you helping me?”

“Old habit being the husband of a clumsy wife.” He points to her wrist “I know you did that to yourself, even if everyone blames me for it.” Oscar’s shoulders slump. “I’m sorry for the past month, I didn’t want to admit to myself I lost you and I lashed out at you like an idiot.”

“Thank you for helping me, Oscar, but right now I need to go to my bus.” Florencia holds her purse and suitcase close and start to walk away. “I don’t think I’ll ever return to Blue Springs, I don’t want to give you false hope.”

“I’ll miss you Flo” Oscar grumbles under his breath and behind his tears as he watches his ex-wife leave until she’s out of sight.

As if by providence, the bus approaches the stop just as Florencia reaches it, crossing path at the bus’ door with the young black nurse that was at Amada’s home just last month. They exchange simple greetings and she let the girl leave, stepping inside of the bus on her own “Tell Amada I’m gone from Blue Springs, I’ll send her a message as soon as I’m able to.” she shouts after the nurse, getting a thumbs up back, she climbs aboard.

 

* * *

 

Once the ticket is given, the driver hits a casual conversation with Florencia, explaining how to read the tickets she has since they double as a semi reliable schedule. “So, we’ve got a stop in Smallville and then we’re on to Kansas City, your bus will be an hour later at the same stop.” he shuts the door to the bus once the clock hits the correct time, then start driving. “Normally I don’t stop by Blue Springs, but there’s been a few people coming in and out of the place recently, where are you headed?”

“National City, I’m moving there.” Florencia place her good hand over her wrist, trying to soothe the pulsating pain. “I got about two days of travel to get there, I hope there will be less bumpy roads.” she worries, as the bumps cause her to move her wrist in unpleasant fashion.

“Why are you moving there, not liking the country side life?” The bus goes through town slowly, passing by the church, the city hall and the police cruiser, leaving everything behind them. “Yeah give it about half an hour and we’ll be on better roads.”

“I’m moving there to live closer to my daughter and her little girl.” Florencia speaks over the rising emotional pain, the distance from this town dragging the specter of regret back to the edge of her thoughts. “It’s a big bus, is it ever full?”

“Kansas city is where all of the people get in, I dropped quite a few people before getting to Blue Springs.”

“Do you often see animals on the road ?” Florencia points to a black bear running away from the bus, kicking off some dust behind it.

“About one per run, I’d say, it’s not always a bear, sometimes it’s those weird local elk thingies that should be in africa.” He struggle to remember the exact word, giving up halfway.

“You mean a Pronghorn?” Florencia supply and he offers a snap of his finger as confirmation. “There was one or two around Blue Springs last summer.” In spite of the constant pain in her wrist, she yawns and leans back into her seat. “I’ll let you drive now.” She props her purse against the window to act as a pillow and close her eyes.

The drive is long and painful for the older woman, each bump in the road is another temptation to reach for the pills in her purse, each road sign a clear marker for how far she is from what was her home for so long. Every moment she catches with her eyes open is obscured by a curtain of tears, when the bus stops in Smallville, Florencia spends a moment wiping her eyes while a few passenger come into the bus, a woman of a similar age approach her

Curly grey and white hair framing a kind, round visage and piercing blue eyes. “Is everything okay?” she steps to the side to let the few other people as best she can, holding up her suitcase high, strength obvious in her. “I’m sorry to bother you like that, dear but you seem in distress.”

Florencia’s first instinct is to get defensive, raising her good hand to protect herself at the sudden proximity. “Who are you ?” she means the question as a defense.

“Oh, sorry about my manners.” She offers a hand to shake, her left one so that Florencia can shake with the hand that isn’t hurting. “I’m Martha.” Florencia hesitantly shakes her hand and Martha can feel the little tremor in her touch.

“I’m Florencia.” She pulls her hand away quickly, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry if I’m bothering you, I’ll try to just ...” she trails off.

“Oh, I’m not bothered, I’m concerned.” Martha boldly claim the seat right next to Florencia, setting her one suitcase at her feet. “Nobody cries in public because things are looking up, I just wanted to know if I could help.”

“I don’t know you.” It's a weak reason to refuse and she knows it.

“Then it means there’s no reason for me to judge your problems, I’m not going to insist Florencia, but I’m here if you need something.” Martha pulls a phone out of her pocket and looks over several notification, a bright smile lights up her feature.

“Thank you for offering, I’ve never been this alone.” With a side-glance to the woman’s phone, Florencia knows Martha is a Superman fan because of her phone’s lock screen, that she has a son named Clark, since that’s the name on top of the conversation that start with ‘Mom, where are you now?’

“It’s a curse these days.” Martha quickly type in a response to her text and set the phone down on her lap. “I’m luckier than most, people on the farm, a husband, a son and a family I can rely on even beyond those two people.” she looks to Florencia. “Tell me, who’re you missing?”

“That’s a hard question.” Florencia adjust the straps on her brace, wincing as she notice the swelling there. “I just divorced my husband, his family are ignoring me, mine is not really happy about it either.” she looks at the ceiling of the bus. “I think the person I miss the most is my daughter.”

“Is she too busy to visit you?” Martha teases a bit, paying attention to the woman at her side as the bus goes on toward Kansas city.

“She doesn’t have any reason to, really.” Florencia wipes her eyes before the tears trail down her cheeks “I’m going to National City to be closer to her, I’m hoping to fix what’s been broken.”

“I have family in National City, I can ask them if they’d help you settle down?” Martha decides to move the conversation toward the future, forward instead of lingering on things Florencia might not be inclined to share.

“I’m set up with most things, I have a room at a hotel while I find an apartment.” she points to her wrist “I have a doctor’s appointment at a local clinic for this.” Florencia sigh “I don’t think there’s much your family could help me with.”

“Why don’t you tell me about your girl, what kind of girl is she ?” Martha smiles as she ask the question, but it quickly fades as the distress grows in the other woman’s eye.

Florencia doesn’t know what to say, what to answer and that might be more painful than her wrist, when she shrugs it feels like lifting the weight of her guilt and letting it drop back down on her again. “I don’t know.” she tries, god knows how hard she tries, not to break down crying right there, but the simple supportive touch of Martha on her back is enough for the dam to break.

“You’ll figure it out” Martha offers quietly, pulling the other woman into welcoming arms, comforting her with quiet words

 

* * *

 

> _**Clark:** Mom, where are you now?_   
>  _**Martha:** I’m on the bus. Will talk to you in a bit._   
>  _**Clark:** Chatting with people I see :)_   
>  _**Martha:** I saw a woman crying, spent the trip to Kansas City talking_   
>  _**Clark:** Is she okay?_   
>  _**Martha:** Yes, she’s going to National City! Maybe she’ll see Kara!_   
>  _**Clark:** I’m supposed to drop by in a few weeks, she told me she has news!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next few chapters will deal with the events of her early time in National City.


	4. National City (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Florencia is slumming it at the Baldwin while she deals with the immediate necessities of starting fresh in a new town: Getting your broken wrist fixed, Finding a church and finding a place to stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Reference to past child abuse  
> TW: Homophobia

Florencia doesn’t spend that much time in her hotel room, she feels too distant from the world, everything is too soft and it’s out of touch with her usual preferences. Now she’s walking down a large avenue, heading to the nearest medical clinic, but the walk there last about an hour, so she spends time looking about the various landmarks and historical monuments (A statue of an heroic fireman) and some more recent ones (a House of El crest etched into a stone at edge of a park). There was no time for her during her last visit to see the sights.

She reach the clinic just as it opens, the line isn’t long and it seems to be moving through triage at a brisk pace, while she waits her eyes read over the names of the doctors at the clinic, there is a mild relief when two of the names are clearly non-white. She’s drawn out of her reading by the young man before her in the line offering her his spot with a quiet, inviting gesture of his hand. “Very kind of you, but I have all the time in the world today, I can wait.”

The nurse looks at the young man as he reveal his nature by pulling away the hood of his hoodie: Pallid gray skin, eyes completely black and messy dark hair, the sleekness of his build marks him as an alien, the closest look to a classic image of a ‘gray’. The side of his head is busted open by blunt trauma and blood is half dry and still oozing out. “Do you have any identification on you and is this a normal color for your blood ?”

Florencia is taken aback by the revelation and stares at the young man, eyes wide, the most unsettling thing has to be how everyone seems to be calm about his presence. She catches the nurse’s apprehensive glance and the worried expression on the young man, realizing what they fear. “Oh, My apology for staring at you.” she stares at her feet.

The young man gives his identification to the nurse and grabs it back when she’s done noting. “Never seen an alien before?” he ask, nervously tugging at stray strands at the fraying sleeves of his hoodie “My blood is black yeah.”

“I’ve been called one a few times, but It’s the first time I meet one.” Sheepish, her gaze fall upon her shoes.

“New to the city then? This is one of the few clinic that accept us.” his voice sounds different, like there’s an echo to it, but the way he speaks suggest a familiarity with the language.

“Yeah, I just moved in yesterday.” The nurse moves the young man along near the hallway that leads to the doctor’s office, assuring him quietly that he’d be seen quickly. Florencia is next and last in line, she pulls up the sleeve of her denim jacket to reveal her swollen, bruising wrist. Just raising her arm to the nurse cause a sharp sting of pain.

The nurse’s eye go wide in shock “How long did you wait to see a doctor?” she takes Florencia’s identification and takes some notes, takes her by the other arm and guides her to the doctor’s office with urgency in her steps.

“A couple of days? Maybe four or five?” She follows as best she can, her legs heavy from the lengthy walk to the clinic. “I hurt it punching my brother’s truck.”

The nurse asks a few questions, which Florencia doesn’t really process right away as she deals with a bout of dizziness, but she catch the last one, once they’re in the doctor’s office. “Are you in a lot of pain ?”

“It’s hard to think clearly some times, sleeping is really tough too, otherwise I’m fine. I eat just fine.”

“You seem a little out of breath” The nurse remarks "Are you having problem breathing?"

“Yeah, I walked an hour getting here, I don’t usually exercise that much.” a soft chuckle bubble out of her.

“One of the doctors will see you shortly.” The nurse leaves her in the small examination office and two minutes later an older gentlemen come in, he’s not one of the two non-white doctor that Florencia hoped for, a nervous weight settle in her stomach.

“Helena tells me we have a broken wrist.” He helps Florencia remove her jacket, folds it nicely on a chair and spend a moment pressing down on her arm, on her hand. “This is going to hurt but I need to do this to know if the bone is already healing or if its still broken.”

“It’s okay, I deserve that.” Florencia mentions off hands, she note the doctor ticks at the choice of words. The pain of the examination is quite intense, but she endures as quietly as she can.

“Good and bad news.” He speaks softly, sitting on the swivelling seat. “Good news is that your bone is still broken and that means I don’t have to break it again to set it back correctly.” he pulls open a drawer. “Bad news is, you can’t go home right away.” he sets a bottle of pills on the examination table. “Don’t worry about paying for this one” he whisper kindly. “This’ll stop the swelling and the pain, then we can put in a brace to make sure your wrist heals properly.”

Florencia’s shoulders drop and she shake her head. “I can’t take this.” she winces a little bit as little burst of pain come through her wrist.

“Are you allergic?” The doctor inquires.

“No, It’s because of a penance from my pastor back in Blue Springs. I’m not supposed to take any drugs for a month.” she looks at the floor, shame weighting on her shoulders.

“Miss Rodas, I understand that your faith is important to you, but so should your health and well-being.” He clear his throat, careful, prudent about the way he speaks. “Did your pastor even know you had a broken wrist?”

“No” Florencia shakes her head.

“I think maybe he had in mind tobacco, aspirins or any other substance he may have assumed you were taking.” He explains calmly. “Not medication that will prevent you from possibly losing a limb.”

“I guess.” There is no conviction in her voice, but her eyes shine with rising tears.

“I’ll help you find a church in town with the proper denomination if possible, while we wait for the swelling to disappear, okay?” He suggests, setting his phone to the side.

She takes the bottle in her hand. “I- I can afford the bottle, by the way. I know I don’t look like much but I can afford to pay.” she looks to the door, pensive “How much is it going to cost for the young alien man’s stitches ?”

The doctor smiles brightly at her question, quietly guessing she’s trying to find an alternate penance to the one she already have. “We need a special kind of stitches for him, since his skin will have a reaction to the standard ones. His total will come about 300$.”

“Thank you, I’d like to pay for his medical bill today.”

When Florencia leaves the clinic about an hour later, the young man is already gone from the clinic but the nurse smiles at her fondly.

 

* * *

 

The time spent with the doctor looking for the right church paid off, there’s one not too far away from the Baldwin hotel that she manages to take a cab to, her feet sore and her legs too heavy for her to just walk back. Her cab driver is not chatty and seems vaguely unhappy with traffic, he stops in front of the Church sign ‘National City Sacred Heart Gather’

He grumble through the price “13.35“

Florencia pays and make her way to the building, the church is taller than the one in Blue Springs, it also look in better shape than any building standing in her former town, that brings a smile to her as she climbs the steps, pushes past the heavy church door. Inside there are a few peoples, most of them working on restoring some minor aspect of the church, someone is varnishing pews, another is painting a wall and a lady is changing the light bulb near the confessional..

A bald man with a graying beard approaches Florencia, he wears the same kind of robe as the pastor back in Blue Springs. He offers a gentle smile to the new arrival “How may I help you ?”

“I am new in National City, I arrived yesterday” Her left hand runs over her wounded wrist, the worst of the pain is gone. “This church is close enough to where I’m staying and I spent an hour looking for one with the doctor.” she rambles a bit, shaking it off quickly. “I have questions for you, if you have time.”

The man smiles, turning to a very skinny man, the one varnishing the pews. “Keep an eye on things, Benjamin. I’ll be back soon, the lady here needs a bit of my time.” He guides her toward a little room to the right of the altar, it’s a small office with a couch and a rickety desk with a computer.

“I apologize for the interruption, I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.” She takes a seat on the couch when invited to do so.

“You seemed nervous, In my experience privacy can help alleviate that.” He speaks calmly, sitting down at his desk “What were your questions?”

“What denomination is this church? What kind of charity work do you support ? Would you be willing to accept a confession from me?”

“This is a non denominational church, we support the local kitchen for the poor which is located in our basement and a few more." He rummage through a drawer "I will accept a confession from you.” He respond, studying the woman in front of him with an edge of worry.

“Good, I think this is what’s best for me. I used to go to an evangelical church but... It can’t work for me anymore.” she explains, fiddling with the brace on her wrist. “I’d like to know the hours and day for the kitchen, I want to volunteer there when my wrist heals.”

“Why don’t you think an evangelical church works for you? What changed?” He pulls a pamphlet from the drawer and offers her. “Here a list of the service provided by the church, everything you can help with is in there.”

“It’s related to my confession, it’s just a big tangled, complicated mess.”

“I’ll hear it now, you can speak to me. I don’t think we need the box to speak freely between us, our faith in God has given us a common ground for familiarity” He offers kindly “My name is Adam, by the way”

“I’m Florencia.” she takes a deep breath “A long time ago, me and my ex-husband found out that our daughter was gay.” she close her eyes. “Our reaction was not the right one, to be honest I don’t know what reaction would have been the right one.” she look at the floor.“Our congregation approved of how we dealt with it and it hasn’t changed, it won’t accept her back.” she clear her throat. “I confessed to my old pastor about something I did to her when I met her later in life and he gave me a penance which I broke.”

He sense the woman sinking into despair and distress and he leaves his desk to sit next to her. “Easy, easy” trying to keep his voice soothing. “A confession is much better when specifics are given and you avoid the generic stroke of the brush you’re giving me, I’m not here to judge you, I’m here to guide you.”

“When we learned she was gay. My husband beat her, you know, don't spare the rod thing, I threw together a suitcase with some of her belonging. We sent her to her aunt, my husband's sister. She was fourteen. I’ve never spoken about this with shame before, not like this.” Florencia keeps her gaze to the ground. “We never heard of her until she invited us to her wedding about a year ago. My husband went and I didn’t. She sent him away when he still didn't accept her, she was marrying a woman. Then I managed to convince him to let me go see her.” she shrug and smile. “I stumbled across her at the super-mall, with her daughter, probably 8 years old. I got angry and I slapped her.”

Adam listens to the woman beside him, a slight hint of discomfort at the heaviness of the situation settle into his demeanor but he listens closely. “Then you confessed this to your church and they gave you a penance that you broke?” When Florencia nods, he continues. “What was the penance, why did you break it ?”

“Saying the Lord’s Prayer every morning upon waking, which I’ve been doing, he also told me to avoid any and all drugs” she looks at her wrist. “I broke my wrist by punching my brother’s truck. I had to take medicine to stop the swelling so the brace would fit. I thought it fit perfectly, to have my wrist hurt so much for a month after I used it to hurt my daughter.”

“Why do you want to leave the Evangelical denomination?”

“Because I’m here to try and get back my daughter and I want my church to accept her and they won’t.”

“What do you mean when you say you want to get back your daughter?”

“She had a daughter and never told us, but I know she made an effort to be straight, it’s more effort than we’ve put into bringing her back into our life.” She pauses, noting the man slowly saddening expression, but she continues. “My husband didn’t want to and I had to leave him.” she shake her head “I mean, I want to help her let go of that sin, I want to do the work with her, I want to be her mother, you know?”

“I understand your intent yes.” The priest nods. “But I don’t think this is the path you should take to achieve it”

Florencia narrows her eyes at Adam, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Florencia, your daughter did not make a choice to have these feelings for other women. just like you never made the choice to have feelings for men.” He explains summarily. “I am definitely not the best person to educate on homosexuality, but I can tell you that this church will welcome your daughter.” He search for words that he doesn’t find for a moment. “As a penance, I think I’ll ask you to have a talk with a member of the LGBT community about your situation.”

Florencia tilt her head to the side. “You’re telling me to atone for a sin by accepting more sin ?”

“I’m trying to show you that all of us are sinners and that the sin of homosexuality is not worse than others that we gloss over every day. It’s merely a line that many draws in the sand in God’s name.” He smiles sadly at her. “The sin I see in you is not the same sin your former pastor sees, and I believe perspective would help you understand.”

"I'm not on speaking term with my daughter, I can't just walk up to her and have a conversation." Florencia reasons, her expression speaks volume to the conflict playing in her mind, her stomach turn oddly. 

“I know someone, come in on Sunday and he'll be here to speak with you after mass.”

 

* * *

 

A pen in her mouth, a newspaper in her hands and an empty cup of coffee at her side, Florencia sits on a bench in the middle of a park, one she found by exploring the surrounding neighborhood around the church, she enjoys the bustling sound of the city, the not-so-distant screams of children playing or the chattering of their parents. Her attention is drawn by the few options she has for an apartment, though her mind wanders back to her conversation with the priest, she manages to narrow her choice down. “If this doesn’t work, I’ll have to find some way to get online.”

Florencia dumps her coffee cup into the nearest trashcan and starts walking through the park, newspaper folded under her arm, passing near the screaming children playing a game of tag. She eventually reaches the other side of the park, reaching a bus stop with a map of the city on the board. Florencia stands there for a few long minutes, trying to find the right street.

“Excuse me ma’am, you need help with something?” A bunch of teenagers approach the bus stop, all of them settling down on the grass or the seat left available. The young lady that asks her is wearing a dark blue hoodie with a supergirl logo on it

“I’m trying to find Lilac street and the third avenue.” She replies with a kind smile to her. “I don’t think the map is detailed enough to show it though” Florencia points to the board.

“It’s not that far from here, this bus goes to the central station and from there, bus number 23 will have a stop right at that intersection. About ten minutes I think?” she’s already checking google maps to make sure. “It’s about four bucks for the bus.”

“Thank you very much, god bless you.” They exchange a smile and Florencia goes near the actual stop sign to wait for the bus.

 

* * *

 

By the time she gets to the intersection with the proper bus, her feet are killing her from walking so much today, it takes her another twenty minute to find the right building. It’s a tall apartment complex that cast a long shadow on the nearby commercial area. She steps into the lobby of the building and looks at the handmade signs on the billboard: ‘Apartment to rent, Call 555-2231 or Ring door 201‘

Florencia looks over the list of tenants and press the one marked 201, there’s no unlocking of the door, there’s no verbal response through the intercom. She’s about to leave the lobby when a tall, large black man in a red shirt with his belly poking from bottom and jeans appears in the hallway, raising his hand to get her attention. He opens the door. “You there for the apartment rental lady? cuz you don look like any kid being a lil shit.”

“That happens often?” Florencia asks with an amused smile, offering her good hand to shake. “Yes, I’m here for the rental. I’d like to visit.”

"Some of the kids in the building have friends who like to do that." He shakes it and looks confused for a moment “I put picture all over the ad on the internet and y’all want a damn tour.” he grumps and opens the door for her, waving her in.

“I saw the ad in the newspaper, I don’t have a phone or a computer yet. Just got out of a divorce.” She explains, as he opens a stair case, they climb down to a semi basement hallway.

“Is that asshole gon’ come over here and cause trouble?” The man stops at the door with a shining 14 on the door and pulls the key out of his pocket, unlocking the door. "Cuz I know a few people who can knock sense into him" 

“No, he’s all the way back in Nebraska. We parted in good term for a divorce.” She gets into the apartment, It’s small but clean, she explore a few of the room and test the lights.

“There’s a laundry room at the end of the hallway and the electric bill is bundled with the rent.” He opens the bathroom door. “Plumbin’ need a bit of work, my bro is comin’ tomorrow to fix it” He gesture toward the kitchen sink “he ain’t a slouch so it’s gon be good to go. You got a credit score letter or do I have to run it myself?”

“I’d rather skip that part and just pay you the full year in advance.” Florencia pulls her wallet out from her jeans pocket and pulls out her identification just to prove who she is. “I’ll go get the lease papers, you bettah have a check cuz I ain’t touching that much cold cash.”

Florencia pulls out her checkbook from inside of the pocket of her denim jacket. “You won’t run a background check?”

“Lady I went to jail cuz I got busted with fuckin’ grass in my backpocket like, actual mowed grass. I ain’t judging no shit on your rap sheet, especially since you pay rent up front. Name’s Bill by the way.” He waves and start climbing the stairs.

Florencia smiles, Bill is certainly an entertainment person to have a conversation with, she uses the kitchen counter to write the check, then pull a small paper pad and writes down some numbers and a list of things she’ll need to fill the apartment’s empty space, by the time she’s done writing with her bad hand, Bill returns.

“Alright, just lettin’ you know, there’s aliens in the building and I mean people from outta space, there’s a few kids too, though they ain’t above your head so It won’t be no problem.” He set the papers in front of Florencia. “That sound good to you?”

“I don’t mind people from space and I’m not bothered by children" She reads the papers over a few times, making a few notes. “We can have pets ? it’s not mentioned anywhere.”   
  
“Sure, you can have pets, but I don’t want no stink or weird shit you need a special permit for.” He waves the concern off with an easy smile.

Florencia smiles and scrawl her signature at the bottom of the lease.. “This look nothing like my signature, my writing hand is broken” she clear her throat. “I’ll re-sign it when it get better.”

“Sure” Bill drops the key on the counter. “You can make as much doubles of the key as you wanna, but you gotta tell me ‘bout it. Having locks changed sucks around here.” He looks to the door “When you planning on movin’ in?”

“Probably next week, I already paid for my stay at the hotel in advance, so I’m going to plan my move from there.” she put her checkbook back into her pocket, along with her wallet. “Think you could call a cab for me?”

“Yeah sure, it’ll be right in the parking lot, cuz the street so skinny it could be on the front page of the damn magazine.” he waves at her and pull his cellphone out to dial it. "I'll let you know when the check gets cleared" 

Florencia laughs as she makes her way out of the building. "Have a nice day Bill!" 


	5. National City (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Florencia finds un-expected obstacles and hurdles on the path she set out to follow, she draws the attention of a strange woman and finds safety with local police officers and manages to make a new friend.

> _**Florencia:** This is florencia_   
>  _**Rafael:** finalmente! como esta flo?_   
>  _**Flo:** Im doing a lot better._   
>  _**Rafael:** Mom is in town, she is sad to miss you._   
>  _**Flo:** did you tell her why I was gone?_   
>  _**Rafael:** No no, I didn’t I’m not in the mood to listen to her rant about that._   
>  _**Flo:** Thank you._   
>  _**Rafael:** i just got done working. about to drive._   
>  _**Flo:** be careful. _   
>    
> 

* * *

  
  
In the span of a week, Florencia furnished her apartment with little gems she had found around at charities in town, on craigslist ads, and on the bulletin board hanging in the building’s laundry room. She gets a cellphone with a few bells and whistles and learns from Billy how to use some of the more complex functions in exchange for a recipe to help him impress his girl. When she runs out of things to focus on, there is dread slowly creeping forward, the Sunday mass looms over her head like a dark cloud.  
  
When Sunday finally arrives, she walks out of the apartment building and decides to walk to the church, she feels the knots in her stomach tighten and the pain in her wrists return with a vengeance. Each heartbeat brings more weight to her steps, each step strips a bit more of her self-control away and by the time the church is in view, she can’t bring herself to cross the street just yet. She’s quietly, discreetly wiping at her eyes, hoping that nobody sees.   
  
After a few minutes, she finally gathers her wits and crosses the street, managing to make it in time for the start of the mass. When she pushes past the large wooden door, she draws the attention of a few people, all of them smile warmly at her. Florencia takes a seat in one of the back pews and tries to look at her own hands, hoping that no one can tell she just cried. That hope is quickly dashed when a woman in the seat right in front of her, discreetly, drops a small pack of Kleenex on her lap.   
  
She doesn’t use more than a few during the celebrations and the sermon, it’s familiar to her enough but the differences in the details of the words spoken leaves her in a daze, she remains in her seat for most of the gathering, she doesn’t make any effort to follow any of the motions that the various moments usually require. Nor does she bother to perform the communion. Once the mass is over and the people are leaving, the priest approaches her discreetly, concern on his feature.  
  
“Is something wrong ?” He ask calmly, a young man follows him him, a black t-shirt with a red superman logo on it and a pair of torn jeans. “I saw you were upset a few times.” he sits next to her and the young man keeps his distance from them.   
  
“I've been dreading today so much, I almost didn’t make it inside.” She mumbles, leaning forward, resting her forehead against the back of the pew in front of her. “I don’t feel the comfort of a home anywhere, I don’t even know how to think about any of this anymore.” she looks to him. “How do I know which beliefs are right?”   
  
“I understand, last time we met was a rather odd moment for me too.” The priest admits and he looks at the woman at his side. “You’re experiencing quite a lot of changes in a short amount of time, it can be overwhelming. Especially when the changes are this important..” He waves the young man closer “I think that this young man here might be able to help you find the answers to your questions. I’ll be over there, just in case you two need me.”   
  
The young man offers a hand to shake as the priest leaves Florencia’s side, there is an awkward moment when he changes the offered hand because he notices the brace around the woman’s wrist. “Hi.” he sits in the pew in front of Florencia. “So. Adam told me you have a daughter ?” there's another awkward moment of silence that follows.   
  
“Yes, I have a daughter.” Florencia exhale the response like it’s her first breath in a long time.   
  
“So, what happened with her ?” He questions, he makes a good show to remain polite, but there’s this fire burning just beneath the surface, this anger just waiting to flare, like a loaded spring.   
  
“She’s--" Florencia struggles to find the right word for a moment, before settling on the simplest one. “-- gay, I regret the way my husband and I treated her when we found out.” There's a pause of shame and obvious regret slips over her features “We kicked her out.” She finishes softly   
  
The young man blinks once and glares toward the priest for a moment, he returns his attention to the older woman. “Why?”   
  
“It’s exactly what it sounds like, my husband did not want his house to be home to sin. His sister took her in.” She shake her head. “It took meeting her again to realize--” there is a long moment of silence, it grows heavy and fills with meaning “--to realize how wrong I was to let it happen.”  
  
“I--” The young man is upset, it’s obvious in his demeanor and the tone he takes when his voice tries to come out, the priest doesn’t speak to him but he rest a comforting hand onto his back. “I don’t know what you want from me, Miss. I just don’t know what to tell you.”   
  
“I just want to understand! I just need somebody to help me understand how one church can applaud me for kicking my daughter out and another make me feel so ashamed of it.” there are tears beginning to spill from her eyes   
  
“Lady there’s nothing to understand. I love men the same way you love men. That’s all there is to it. Your daughter loves women the same way a traditional man would love them.” he shrug “It’s really that simple!”   
  
“But it’s not how things were intended to be!” The statement is blurted out and the sound of her own anger rises to match his. The words echoes in the almost empty church.   
  
“The hell do you know about how things were intended to be? Have you read the bible? I mean like, actually read it?” He points vaguely toward the nearby cross on display. “Because if that’s your basis for what’s ‘intended’ maybe consider actually the way God makes things --” He’s interrupted by Florencia.   
  
“God doesn’t make mistakes!”   
  
The young man roll his eyes, he’s not shouting at her but he’s no longer trying to hide the fact that he’s angry. ”That‘s exactly my point! If you‘d let me finish maybe you‘d know!”   
  
“Fine, sorry, go on.”  
  
“God didn’t make a mistake when he made me, God didn’t make a mistake when he made your daughter.” He stands up and gets ready to leave, the priest gets out of his way, to let him leave. “You’re the ones making the mistake, you’re the ones passing judgment in the name of God, you just read a fucking two thousand year old book and followed everything it says without asking any questions about anything." Just when Florencia goes is about to speak again, he interrupts her as well "You people don't even follow the bible to the letter, none of us do. The clothes we're wearing aren't okay according to the bible!” He runs his hand down his face. “Look lady, I’m out. I’m sorry I yelled, but I’m just out of here.”   
  
After the young man is gone, Adam takes a seat beside Florencia and exhales with exasperation.. “I had a feeling it’d go something like that.” he speaks the words calmly, quietly. “But I think what just happened illustrates my point perfectly.” The priest’s voice is soft and calm “You aren’t going to be able to bring your daughter back into your life if you continue on this path.”   
  
“Aren’t you angry at him for what he said ?” Florencia waves her hand vaguely in the young man’s direction.  
  
“No I am not angry with him, he has issues forgiving people who, like you, have wronged his community.” Adam nods to her. “But the boy understands the context surrounding the holy book better than most people. He spent a lot of time thinking, learning and reading about it.” He looks at the cross adorning the wall nearby. “The bible was written by many people and edited by many more, each hand bringing their own understanding, their own purposes.” The priest sets a miniature version of the bible on the small expanse of wood between Florencia and himself. “He sees the fear of differences, of change in between the lines written in the book.”   
  
“Isn’t it blasphemous ?”   
  
“Is it blasphemous to spend so much time trying to understand the book at the core of our beliefs? Wouldn’t understanding the underlying truth behind it make you more godly? Closer to God ?”   
  
“What would that change ?” Her frustration is tangible, but she’s making a good effort not to let it out at the priest.   
  
“What do you think? Because that is something you’ll have to do.” Adam looks at Florencia and notice her slowly growing angrier and quickly explain his thoughts. “I think you’ve accepted the words of others, I think you’ve followed their paths and stepped into their footsteps a lot.” The priest places a hand on her back, tentatively. “I think you need to start doing all of it for yourself. It’s not about following the word of God, as spoken by me or your old pastor or the pope.” He smiles her way. “It’s about finding the word of God for yourself, it’s about what you hear when you listen to him, understanding in what ways he speaks with you.”   
  
“That’s not what I got from the community sermon today.” Florencia raise her eyebrow.   
  
“A lot of people in churches’ communities are here for comfort, for familiarity, to be comforted in their beliefs.” He shrugs. “You’re here for different reasons, you need different guidance than they do.” Adam smiles. “You can’t teach someone something they don’t want to learn.”   
  
The explanation calms Florencia a little and she nods once. “I think I understand what you mean.” she close her eyes “How would I learn more?”  
  
“There are bible studies in various churches in town, the next one is at the Cathedral with the Cardinal.” he smiles at her. “Or, if you have the means, The local university offers a Religious Studies course.”   
  
Florencia nods once. “I think with what you just said, I’ll look over the university course. I don’t think speaking with the cardinal would bring me closer to my daughter.”   
  
“I know a few people over there, I’ll help you get in if you’re interested.”   
  
“Thank you, I’d appreciate it.” She looks at the cross too now.  
  
“I believe you’re being braver now than at any point in your life.” he smiles. “God bless you.”  
  


 

* * *

  
  
Florencia throws a look over her shoulder a few times after she leaves the church, she can’t shake the feeling that she is being followed. She steps into a small café on the way back to her apartment, spotting a police car in the parking lot, she takes a seat at the counter and watches the door with focus. She sees a woman, the definition of a white soccer mom: blue shirt, high waist high jeans, large purse, about to enter the café but immediately back off and leave, presumably when she notices there are cops.   
  
Florencia orders a coffee, slides off the uncomfortable stool at the counter and approach the table where the police officers are, her left hand gently running over her wounded wrist. “Excuse me, are you off duty?" she asks the pair.   
  
“No, we are just taking a short break. What’s the problem ma’am ?"   
  
“There was a woman following me, she was going to get into the restaurant but left when she saw you." She opens her cellphone and shows the few pictures that she snuck of the woman following her.   
  
“I’ll go take a look. She looks familiar."   
  
“Dawson, be careful." The older of the two warns. “Now lady, unless this woman actually did something, it’s going to be hard to do anything. But, we can give you a ride home once you’re done with your coffee.” he smiles at her. “Just, send me the pictures of that woman, just in case.” He writes down a few things on his notepad.  
  
Florencia enters the man’s phone number and fiddle with her phone for a while, managing to send the picture after a few minutes. “Thank you.”   
  
Once he gets the picture, he takes a few moment to send them to someone. “I’m going to need your identification, just in case this turn up something important.”   
  
The woman shows her passport to the man and her old state ID. “I’m working on updating the state card, I just arrived here recently.”   
  
“Where are you from ?”   
  
“Blue Springs, Nebraska”   
  
“One of our finest detectives is from there.” He smiles at the woman. 

It takes the older woman only a short moment to realizes exactly who that detective is and she tries not to look too awkward when she replies. “Well, good to know there’s a bit of my home in the city.”   
  
The other police man returns and takes a seat “So, Gibson I think there’s something to it.” He nods to the older man. “I’m pretty sure she had help to get away.”   
  
“Well, I’m glad for the ride home then.” Florencia chuckles nervously.   
  
Gibson smiles “Grab your coffee to go, I don’t think it’s wise to stay here.”   
  


* * *

  
  
Florencia goes to bed early that night, doors locked, windows closed and a squad car parked near the building, just in case. The silence is something she still has issues adapting to, back in Blue Springs she had her husband snoring beside her, the house made noise with the wind, with the temperature changes and the occasional vehicles riding through down to get across the state.   
  
Here, the sounds of the city are hidden by the thick, insulated walls of the building, by the distance between them and the general calmness that comes with the National City nights. Which is why when a loud noise, followed by the sound of a woman crying occurs at around 2 in the morning, Florencia awaken quickly and slips out of bed sluggishly, wrapping a robe around herself over her pajamas.   
  
On her way to her door, she grabs the first blunt object she can, which happened to be a hammer she used earlier to hang a picture frame, to defend herself in case this is the woman from earlier today. She opens the door and peek outside through half-lidded eyes, grumbling under her breath.   
  
A young woman is sitting on the floor right beside Florencia’s next door. She’s wearing a black, featureless hoodie, a pair of fashionably torn jeans and heeled black boots. A set of keys lays on the floor right in front of her, tears are falling from her face and onto her lap, her hands are clasping strongly at her knees, she’s trying to still them from intense, involuntary trembling. At her side is a take-out bag which fills the hallway with the scent of Mexican food. As soon as Florencia step out in the hallway, the crying woman turn her attention to her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean wake you, I’ll be quiet.”   
  
The woman has a ridged face, a strange accent and the blue of her eyes is lost in the dim light of the hallway. Florencia has a short moment of hesitation, but quickly recognize the young woman for an alien. “What’s happening?” her nose wrinkle, offended at the greasy smell of the takeout food.   
  
“I’ve been trying to unlock my f--” She stops herself from swearing and takes a deep breath even as her hand keeps trembling. “--My door but my arms are pretty bad tonight and I can’t get the key into the hole.”   
  
Florencia picks up the keys with her left hand and bring them closer to the young woman’s face. “Which one opens this door?” Her voice croaks with sleepiness.   
  
Hope shine in the alien woman’s face and she smiles a little bit, raising a shaky finger to point at the proper key.   
  
Florencia tries to unlock the door but drops the keys. “My good hand is hurt, this might take a few tries.” she offers a comforting laugh as she picks up the keys again.   
  
Once the older woman unlocks the door, after one more try, she exhale in relief. “Thank you! We can share my meal if you want?” she picks up the food as she struggles to her feet.  
  
“I’d rather go back to sleep.” Florencia stifle a yawn. “But if you want to eat real Mexican food, I can cook something for you sometimes soon?”   
  
“I.. thank you” She steps inside of her own apartment. “I don’t have a lot of things to cook with. It’s hard to cook anything with my arms.” she quickly set down the bag to stop her trembling from making noises.   
  
“What happened ? Is it Parkinsons?” There is soft concern in the older woman’s eyes.  
  
She shakes her head. “Not every human want us here.” she takes a deep breath. “Someone did tests on me, my arms are painful most days, sometimes they tremble so bad I can’t do anything.”   
  
“I’m sorry that happened.” Florencia looks at the empty spaces in the apartment, a sting of sadness creeping in her heart. “If you need help opening your door again or with anything else, just knock. It’s number 14.” She reach out for a handshake “I’m Florencia, by the way.”   
  
The young woman tentatively shake the hand, trying really hard not to squeeze too hard. “Thank you, that means a lot.” once the handshake ends, she finally reveal her name. “I’m Lyra.”   
  
“Good to meet you Lyra. Have a good meal.” A loud yawn escapes her and she turns around, going back to her apartment to sleep. 


	6. National City (Part 3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Florencia's attempt at working on herself are slowly progressing and as if to say she's on the right path, the steps she takes to better understand herself and her belief takes her closer to her daughter, in more ways that even she realizes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reading chapter 49 of Not Forgotten is definitely recommended to catch everything in this one.

> _**Florencia:** Hey, this is florencia_   
>  _**Amada:** hi. did you see her yet?_   
>  _**Florencia:** not yet. im trying to figure things out for myself first._   
>  _**Amada:** what are you trying to figure out?_   
>  _**Florencia:** my faith, ive listened to you. _   
>  _**Amada:** good_
> 
>  

* * *

 

 

Florencia sit in the quiet church, staring at the various painting with a different kind of thought on her mind this time: instead of reverence at the sacred events being depicted, there was a curiosity and an interest instead. She shoot a quick glance to the screen of her phone, deciding to leave her conversation with Amada where it is now.

The priest, Adam, comes into the church at that moment, carrying a suitcase and wearing a pair of jeans and a black button up shirt with the white collar added to it. He smiles to her “Hey, Miss Rodas. I hope you didn’t wait for me too long ?” He speaks with a strain of fatigue.

“I’ve been here for a while, but I spent most of it thinking and reflecting.” She turns her attention to him fully. “Back from a meeting with the local farmers ?” she jokes as she points to the jeans casually.

“Not the local farmers, but a woman who needed a way to reconnect with the church after going through something traumatic.” He takes a seat. “It was an illuminating and entertaining experience, I have to say.” he opens the bag he’s carrying and pulls out a small bible “What did you need help with ?”

“I just wanted to follow up with you on our discussion.” She hands him a letter, sealed but no adress or names on it. “A letter of apology to Benjamin.” She explains “I’ve spoken with the National City University and they’re going to let me in the religious studies program, thanks to my recommendation letter.”

Adam smiles at Florencia and carefully put the letter into his bag. “I’m proud. How’s your wrist ?”

“It’s painful, but I can cook now, which is fantastic for my new friend.” The older woman smiles.

“That’s wonderful, tell me about this new friend. It’s always pleasant to hear good news after seeing how mean the world can get.” He listen with a bright smile.

“She’s a woman, an off-worlder. She had problems with opening her door the other night, so I helped her. Told her I’d cook for her too.” Florencia has a bright smile. “It felt good to help someone again.” She casually poke at him. “You look a little off, is everything okay?”

“I can’t speak in much details, but the person I’ve just came back from.” he takes a deep breath. “Had a lot of things to unpack, ultimately it ended up being a conversation about how sin doesn’t happen in a vacuum.” he leans back into the pew. “Being forced by another to commit sin places that sin on the enforcer’s shoulders, that was difficult to process for them.”

“Oh Dios, that sounds terrible.” A soft frown on her face.

“It was, but they’re okay now I think. We were laughing when I had to take my leave.” He looks to her, trying to change the topic back to the present. “If you’re good to cook, do you want me to show you how to apply to our soup kitchen?”

“I think that would be okay, I might not be there everyday until my wrist is completely better, but I can at least start helping.” Florencia stands up, obviously ready to go right now.

Adam smiles a bit, standing up from the pew. “Just give me a minute to take off the collar” He heads to his office with his left hand tugging at the edge of his collar.  


* * *

 

It starts with cutting vegetables. Then it’s debating how to cook them with the rest of the people at the soup kitchen Florencia caves in easily when the chef kindly explain to her that spicy food can often go to waste. The older women in the kitchen suggest she makes a spaghetti sauce with her choice of ingredients and spices, to give people a bit of choices. She ends up making only a few jars of it, most of the younger people helping out at the soup counter get a taste of it, whatever is left after dinner is going home with them.

When they get to the spaghetti itself, it’s a whole other story, all of the stove is occupied with the boiling caudlrons and pans and they make several batches of it. “Are we feeding an army, this is a lot compared to the amount of sauce we’ve made, including mine?”

The balding chef, who reminds her of Rafael, smiles at her. “Well, a lot of people don’t take sauce with their pasta, sometimes we have a few aliens joining us and some of them have to eat a lot.” He pats her on the back. “But this whole thing is for the next few days, we don’t have a full kitchen staff every day so, we prepare a few things in advance when we can.”

“Oh, well hopefully when everything settles down for me, I can help often." Her wrist hurts a little. She’s been subsconsciously rubbing at it between tasks, the chef’s noticed and he’s kept her from doing too much work from there. It leaves Florencia feeling like an hindrance and she starts eyeing the locker in which her purse is, from time to time.

“You’re not staying for dinner with us?” The chef ask casually, shooing another one of the ladies out of the kitchen, he watches her start working on setting the many tables.

“I’m not feeling very useful with my wrist.” She exhale, a mixture of shame and exhaustion seeping into her tone. “But I’m enjoying cooking for people alot, I’ve missed that.”

“You can go home and rest, Florencia, you really helped us. It’s been a while since I’ve had someone who knows how to cook something else than a basic sauce in the kitchen.”

“I didn’t catch your name!” she playfully backhand his shoulder with her good hand

“I’m Robert, if you have to shorten it, go for Bert instead of Bob.” He does a playful tip of an imaginary hat.

“Alright, Bert, Pleasure to meet you.” she extend her hand to shake his.

“I hope to see you again soon.” He shakes back, carefully.

Her purse is still in the locker she’s left it in, but it’s not on the same shelf. She search through it, everything is still there. As she search though, she finds a folded up pamphlet inside of her purse, on the cover there’s a diamond-shaped logo with a strange, odd symbol drawn within. After she shoulders her purse, she skims through the pamphlet and mumble to herself “Yuda Kal?” She fold it again and set it back in her purse, hurrying outside.

 

* * *

 

She pushes past the door, her eyes widen open, her heart beating frantically in her chest and her hand clutching nervously at the strap of her purse. She doesn’t see her in the open space, a deep breath calms her. The receptionist gets her attention with a little wave of her hand. “Yes, I’m sorry. I have something to report to either Officer Dawson or Captain Gibson?”

The receptionist nods once. “What’s it about?” her hands are already on her work phone, punching in the number of one of the men’s post.

“I met them after getting followed, I was told to report here if it happened again.” Florencia opens her purse, pulling out her wallet and the pamphlet. She shows her identification to the receptionist.

After cursory inspection of the offered identification, the receptionist pushes the call button on her phone. “There’s a miss Rodas here for you” whatever the response is, she nods and closes the phone. “Last office to the right.”

Florencia takes a few steps in the indicated direction. That’s when she sees it. Her heart stops for a moment, before going completely wild. It’s in plain lettering against the window of a locked office: Det. Maggie Sawyer. Florencia tears her gaze away from the name of her estranged daughter, she takes another deep breath and does a cross sign, finally reaching the captain’s office.

The door opens before the older woman even has a chance to touch it, the younger of the two men she met at the café holding the door open. “Come in ma’am. You look troubled.”

“Yeah” she looks backward as the door close, as if hoping to catch a glance of her daughter.

Gibson sets his file down as he stand up, offering a hand shake and guides the woman to sit down when he notices she’s getting a little emotional. “It’s okay, you’re safe here. Nothing’s going to happen to you.”

Derek sits on the edge of Gibson’s desk, waiting for the woman to start speaking, letting his boss do his job.

“I went to help out the soup kitchen at my church.” she hands over the pamphlet. “I found this in my purse when I left.”

Gibson looks over it first, then he pass it on to Derek. “We’re aware of the cult of Yuda Kal, they’re a group that follows the equivalent of the Devil but from another world.” He set his hand on her shoulder. “This look like they want to recruit you, I’d avoid it. They’ve already hurt Supergirl almost a year back.”

“Do you know who put the pamphlet in your purse ?” Derek asks.

“I know it’s not the chef I was with him all of the time, It’s probably one of the younger girls that kept going back to the vestiary to check their phones?” Florencia suggest.

Gibson nods to Derek and the younger officer leaves the office “Be back soon.”

“We’ll have you review a few pictures of known members, maybe we can get lucky.” He sits behind his desk “Do you need us to contact anyone to come and pick you up? Do you want us to station anyone near your residence in case?”

“I can get home by my own mean, but I admit I’d like to know there’s an officer nearby, just in case.” She looks back at the door and then to Gibson

“Don’t worry, I won’t post her there for it.” Gibson smiles to the older woman.

“Good, she has better thing to do than to worry about me.” Florencia takes a pen and a paper from his desk and start scribbling.

 

* * *

 

She climbs down the stair to her apartment’s hallway, she finds Lyra sitting down on the floor between their two doors and offers a little smile. “Having problems with the door again ?”

Lyra shrugs and let out a little sigh of relief. She’s wearing only a t-shirt and a pair of jeans, it’s the first time she’s left her arms exposed outside of her home since she broke free of Cadmus. The scars run long and deep and paint an unpleasant picture of what happened. “I was actually just waiting for you, I didn’t go out today.”

Florencia takes a seat on the floor, beside Lyra “Think we’re friend enough to share our phone number? That would save you a bit of trouble, wouldn’t it ?” She type in her phone number on the screen and shows it to her neighbor.

Lyra quickly put the number in. “I suppose it will. Thanks.”

“What’d you need ?”

  
“I have a friend who needs someone to cook their roommate a good meal for their birthday, mexican meal. I said I’d ask my new neighbor.” Lyra stretches her legs, her toes touching the wall opposing them. “I heard you could get paid” with a conspiratorial whisper.

“Hey, I don’t mind helping out, but given how much my wrist hurt I might ask for a bit of money. Am I baking a cake too ?”

Lyra quickly type a message.

> _**Lyra:** Hey, is my friend supposed to bake the cake too?_   
>  _**Winn:** Nah, Kara got that part. Did she say yes?_   
>  _**Lyra:** Yes, but she’s asking for money. her wrist hurt. _   
>  _**Winn:** Money’s not a problem. Me and my goddaughter can come help._   
>  _**Winn:** We can bring the ingredients, just need a list._

“How much do you charge? I’ll need to send them a list of what they need to bring.”

“Hmm, let’s just say fourty bucks, If they help it’s going to be much easier. When is it?”

Lyra shyly recoil from Florencia “Tomorrow.”

“Oh, that’s fine.” A laugh “Just write the list of what I need on your phone and send it to them.”


	7. Fixing things (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2 moments where Florencia helps women in her life and 1 time she helps herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: None that I can think of.

 

> _**You:** [A selfie of Jamie  & Herself] Mi nieta_  
>  _**Amada:** wow_  
>  _**You:** She’s 10, she play soccer and her godparents are fbi_  
>  _**Amada:** hola, when did it happen. it’s a mini-maggie!_  
>  _**You:**   my neighbor is a friend of maggie, that’s who the birthday meal was for_  
>  _**Amada:** did you see Maggie?_  
>  _**You:** not yet, Jamie was here with her godfather._

 

* * *

  
  
Florencia sits on a bench just right outside of the National City University, reviewing a few of the notes she got from the secretary. The casual bustling noise of people going about their days wrap around her warmly.  It feels odd to be looking forward to school again. The excitement it brings  her translate to a slowly widening smile and she’s so caught up in the moment, that she notice too late someone is taking a seat beside her.  
  
“Didn’t I see you at the soup kitchen?” a young blonde woman joins Florencia on the bench “How’re you ?”  
  
Florencia folds the paper in her hands, hiding it in her purse quickly. “Yes, it was me. My  wrist is getting much better too.” she raise her hand and shows her wrist brace. “It’s been too long.” Florencia squirms in place, uncertain about her safety.  “I didn’t catch your name the other night.” she extend her hand to shake it “I’m Florencia”  
  
“Olivia” She answer the handshake, a timid awkward smile on her.  “How do you like National City? I heard you were new!”  
  
“I’m loving it. It’s a very welcoming city.” she looks up at the university’s main building, eager to take control of the conversation. “Though, I never thought I’d go back to school in my life.”    
  
“I used to study here.” The girl lean back, closing her eyes, re-living the fall from the roof, the terror in those few precious seconds before the BetaHadron almost blew up. “I can’t say I’ve ever felt that side of the place.”  
  
“Is that why you tried to find your place with the Yuda Kal people?” Florencia is no detective, but she doesn’t need to be. The girl beside her is giving herself away too easily with each reactions.  If she can stall for time, maybe she can alert a security guard or a staff member.  
  
“You saw me place that flyer?” Olivia ask the question in a rhetorical fashion, she looks to the woman beside her with a touch of annoyance in her response. “The church you’re a part of is not going to make all your problems go away, you know?”  
  
”Yes, you weren‘t exactly subtle.” The lie appear to work and Florencia offers a nonchalant shrug “I wouldn’t want it to.” Florencia looks to the young woman with a bit of empathy. “Your little cult isn’t going to either.”  
  
“There are people in this world with the power to destroy it, to cleanse it and start it again.” She looks to the sky “So yes, My little ‘cult’ is going to fix everything.”  
  
Florencia blinks once, the empathy fading, surprise at the dark, fatalistic turn of the conversation. She remembers Gibson telling her about the cult hurting Supergirl and her stomach knots with fear. “Your little cult hasn’t done anything yet, Why?”  
Olivia stands up and seems about to leave when Florencia grabs her arm, there’s fury in her eyes.  
  
“Sit back down.” The older woman speaks firmly, pulling the girl back onto the bench. “I’m not letting you walk away this easy.” Florencia scolds “Your people followed me more than once, you hid a pamphlet in my purse.” Florencia scolds “I had to have policemen watching my apartment complex just to feel safe because of you. So the least you could do is answer my question, Olivia.”  
  
“I don’t have to do anything, let me go.” the young woman tug her arm free, but doesn’t stand up just yet. “We just wanted to offer you a place since you lost yours. We aren’t dangerous to our own people.”  
  
“A kind thought, but put into action poorly.” Florencia rubs her wrist, her nerves piling on the pressure. “No thank you, even if I truly believed you knew the sort of people that could do this.” She shake her head “I would not join you, I like this world.” her mind conjure the quiet memory of Jamie cooking with her.  
  
“Why!?” the question burst out of Olivia like she couldn’t fathom the answer.  
  
“It might shock you to learn, but there are people worth it, there are futures worth preserving.” She sigh, uncertain where she’d put herself in that equation. “I’ve made mistakes bad enough and often enough to know that.” She points to the school  “You’re still young, you don’t have to wait until you’re old and gray like me to realize you still have a future.”  
  
“There’s nothing worth it in the future to me”  
  
“So no one should have a future because you don’t see one for yourself? Grow up.” Florencia shake her head, letting anger rise a touch.  
  
“Fuck you” another attempt to leave is thwarted by the older woman grabbing at her shoulder and sitting her back down hard. “If you’re so afraid of us, why do you keep stopping me to leave?”  
  
“Language.” A firm one-word threat with a side glare. “I’ve let too many people walk out. Not anymore.” Florencia stares. “Especially not when they’re in as much trouble as you are.”    
  
Olivia tries to get up again but just sit back down again on her own, staring at the ground furiously. She doesn’t know why, but she starts talking. “My ex and my best friend hooked up behind my back.” she speaks quietly. “I drank so much that night that I fell off the roof.” she takes a deep breath. “But Supergirl saved me. I thought she was an angel.”  
  
Florencia listen to the girl go on about how she joined the cult of Rao and how disappointed and scared they were after Supergirl rebuked their beliefs. How everything took a turn toward the current state of affair. She just listens and make a show of it, responding with questions and probing further when faced with odd stories. “And where’s your leader now?”  
  
“Coville’s disappeared and we’ve had none of the signs he predicted yet.” Olivia finishes, a soft shrug. “At least I have a place there.”  
  
“You have a place in this world too. Don’t throw it away for what’s been mostly a lie.” Florencia smiles at the girl. “You still have your whole life to find what it is or even to decide what it is.” She sees the girl’s eyes are full of tears “Whoever is in charge of the cult, they used you in your moment of weakness for their own end. That’s why they went after me, I was alone and new to the city. They knew I was looking for my place too. And if the police are willing to place people to guard me from your cult? Maybe they didn’t tell you about everything.”  
  
Olivia starts sobbing, she brings her knees to her chest and bury her face against them.  
  


* * *

  
  
Studying is something she hasn’t done in so long but it brings her to a very deep and quiet place. It’s different from reading a novel or the newspaper: She has to focus, force herself to recognize what’s important in the text to the author.  A sudden knock on the door startle her.  Florencia steps out of her bedroom, answering the door to Lyra. “Problem with your door ?”    
  
The unexpected guest shakes her head, her shoulder drop a little. “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to wake you up.” Lyra takes a step away from the door, indicating her intent to return to her own apartment.  She stops when she feels the warm hand on her shoulder.  
  
“I was just studying for my first class. I like to be comfortable when I read.” The older woman gently guide her friend back into her own apartment. “What’s happening?” Both of them sit down on the couch.  
  
“Oh right, you’re going back to school, I forgot about that.” Lyra bow her head, embarassed at the moment, scratching the back of her neck. “I just met with Winn again doing my groceries.”  
  
“Did he help you with them?” Florencia asks with a little knowing look. She bump Lyra with her elbow.  
  
“Yeah, it felt so nice. So simple.” Lyra bats at the intruding elbow midlly. “I just wish I could fix what I did to him.”  
  
“He certainly doesn’t seem to mind, he was all over you the other day.” Florencia teases a little bit, Lyra chuckles, but it’s a bit forced.  
  
“It’s just, it feels like pity? It’s not like he likes me that way anymore. He just feels sorry for me.” Lyra explains while fiddling with her fingernails.  
  
“Did you tell him that ?” A knowing smile on the older woman.  
  
“No.” a Sheepish response “I wanted to but, the parking lot of a Walmart is not exactly the place I want to do this.”  
  
“Well then maybe you should try to find the time and place soon. I’m not saying it’s going to work for sure, but I have a hunch he wouldn’t have been so doting if he didn’t really care.” A small pause “Worst case scenario, you have a fantastic friend.”  
  
“Why do you say he’s fantastic, you met him once.”  
  
“I’ve chosen to trust my daughter’s choices.” A little smile. “He’s my nieta’s godfather and that means there’s something good about him.”  
  
“What happened with her ?” Lyra ask immediately.  
  
“That’s... a very difficult question for me to answer.” Florencia exhale loudly. “I made a big mistake and I waited too long to try and fix it.” She smiles at Lyra “So, take it from me, at least try before it gets there.”    
  
A knock on her door, swift and loud. Lyra jumps a little, startled by the sudden noise. Florencia’s body tense, she doesn’t get any visitors beside Lyra and given the recent meeting with the cult, she is extra careful approaching the door. She rise to her tip toes to look out the magic eye and a heavy weight settles in her stomach.    
  
Through the little magic eye she sees Maggie. She’s clad in leather jacket and jeans, standing in front of her door, tupperware in one hand, her other hand holding a motorcycle helmet.  


* * *

  
  
The door opens and her own heart sink, heavy with anger and pain. The older woman before her is wearing an NCU t-shirt and a pair of black matching sweatpants with a pair of panda loafers. The sight is slightly jarring for many reasons. “Er... your tupperwares.” Maggie offer the bundle of plastic plates.  
  
Florencia takes the Tupperwares from her daughter and set them onto the chair next to the door, she tries to speak, but she doesn’t manage to make a sound, her shoulder slump with disappointment, she put her hands over her face, shaking her head.  
  
Maggie clear her throat and power through the mess of emotion rising in her chest. “What are you trying to do?” she almost choke up at the word and her eyes darken considerably. “With my daughter.”  
  
“I... nothing, I didn’t know, I swear to you--” she’s interrupted by Maggie.  
  
“Are you trying to build a relationship with her so you can use that in court to ‘rescue’ her from me ?” Maggie’s tone is spiteful and her eyes narrow, there’s moment where her chest constricts and she’s not sure if it’s because she think she’s being too cruel or because she really think the woman before her could actually do that.  
  
Florencia’s heart squeeze at the accusation and she has to force herself to breathe, tears roll down her cheek. “Is that the kind of monster you think I am? ¿Qué he hecho” she whispers more for herself than Maggie. “I didn’t know who I was cooking for before she came in.”  
  
Maggie wince at her mother’s reaction, she hold up her hand. “Look, I don’t know how to deal with this.” she take a deep breath. “What are you even doing in National City? Where’s Oscar? Why are you wearing an NCU shirt?”  
  
“I divorced him” Is all she can answer before her voice give out.    
  
Maggie’s shoulders drop and her eyes widen. Her gaze heavy with spite, fear and maybe a dash of hope. “Why”  
  
Florencia looks to the ground, ashamed “I don’t want to sound like I’m making excuses, Margarita.” she remains quiet a short moment. “He didn’t want to admit we did something wrong. The argument got really bad.”  
  
“Is that why your wrist is in a brace?” Maggie try to tell herself that it’s the detective in her asking the question.  
  
“No, I punched your Tio rafael’s truck the day we finalized the divorce.” she look to the side. “He said I’d be no use as an abuela that can’t cook.”  
  
Maggie barely manage to conceal the little smile that comes through all of the negative emotions swirling around her mind.  
  
Before Maggie can speak again, the older woman speaks up again “I’m wearing this shirt because I’m back in school. Religious studies.” she take a deep, shuddering breath. “I’m not in a place where I can just...fix things between us, Maggie. I don’t know how or if you’d even want to.”  
  
“Jamie certainly thinks we should try.” Maggie throws a look back to the door that leads into the staircase, she flip the motorcycle helmet in her hands. “But if we’re going to follow your pace, I’m going to have grandchildren of my own by the time we’re done.” she makes the jab at her mother with a pang of regret.  
  
“Margarita.” she says with an almost playful threatening tone, she set her good hand on her hip. “I just don’t want to do something else to hurt you. I can say I’ll pray for you.”  
  
“What, so I can find the strength to forgive you?” Maggie narrow her eyes, her words driven by anger and pain.  She wonders for a moment, if in this moment, she looks like her daughter did in the hallway of the Gotham School.  
  
“No, I know you’re strong enough as it is.”  Florencia wipes tears from her cheek “I’ll pray for God not to hold it against you if you chose not to.” She clears her throat. “I know I did something wrong to you Maggie. I don’t know how to say or do anything more than that right now.”  
  
“Just so you don’t think I’m running away." Maggie can see the conversation is ending, she look at the back of her helmet. “My girlfriend, Jamie and I are going to New York for a bit. We’ll be gone for about a week. We need to get out of town.” she take a deep breath. “Jamie wants to know if you’ll let her come over sometimes?”  
  
Florencia nods quietly, throwing a look back to Lyra who’s awkwardly hiding behind a book and then back to Maggie. The meaning is obvious enough for them both. “Have a safe trip with your little family.”  
  
Maggie turn around and quickly put her helmet back on as she leaves, rushing up the stairs.  
  



	8. Fixing things (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Florencia has an unfortunate encounter with more of the cult of Yuda Kal's shenanigans and it leads her to meet Supergirl and spend some time in the DEO's Medbay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art by Lynndylee on Tumblr!

It’s Sunday evening, the people who ate at the soup kitchen left the premises just a few minutes ago. Florencia is washing one of the pots clean, while the chef, Bert, is drying the rest of the dishes. “You know what I find funny with you Bert?”

 

“What?” He responds, stacking the plates right beside the sink.

 

“You remind me of my brother and he has a dog named Bert.” They both laugh at the coincidence “So It’s like cooking with a family here.”

 

”I wasn‘t sure how well you‘d fit in when you first arrived, but I like having you around, the kitchen is more lively.” Bert comments, smiling “I appreciate your help, and  even if most of the young ones don’t help us clean, they welcome you too.” He dries his hands and fold the towel with practiced ease.

 

“Thanks, that means a lot.” She shrugs, focusing on scrubbing the pot as clean as she could.  When the pot is clean, she puts the pot back on the shelf next to the stove and leaves for the locker room. “I’ll be here on Tuesday, got a doctor appointment and schoolwork to do tomorrow”

 

“Good! I’m looking forward to it!” Bert finishes putting the dishes away and sits at the counter, writing something on the notepad.

 

“I’m heading home!” She hears him reply something, but she doesn’t understand a word.  As she retrieves her coat and purse from her locker, she finds a large book stuck under her things.

 

A note is stuck to the book.

 

_“Hi, It’s Olivia. I snuck in during dinner to hide this book here. I think this is the group’s bible. I can’t understand the book and you have to take a look. Something is changing with the people here. The stone with the book comes from space and it’s dangerous.”_

 

A small bag is right beside the book, inside is a black stone with strange reflections.  As her thumb brushes against it, her vision go blurry for a moment and her hand becomes numb. Florencia drops the bag and the stone deeper inside the locker, locks it and goes out of the building, dialling the science division.

 

“Captain Gibson, the young woman I spoke to you about, she dropped by the soup kitchen tonight.” Her breathing is erratic, her hand is numb and cold as it recovers from the contact with the alien material.

 

“Are you safe?”

 

“She left a book and a rock behind, in my locker. I am dizzy since I touched the rock, and the book is in a language I can’t read.” She stumbles through the words, leaning against the building as her legs weaken.

 

“Are you safe?” He repeats the question.

 

“I don’t know, I’m having a hard time focusing.”

 

“I’m sending someone at your location, It shouldn’t be too long.”

 

Five minutes later, she hears a thud and the fluttering of fabric, the shadow of National City’s very own superhero is cast down upon her.  “Your vital signs are all over the place, let me get you somewhere they can help you. Just, where is the stone and the book?”

 

“Locker 5 in the back of the soup kitchen, I locked it.” She points toward the door and tries to walk to it, but she’s stopped by Supergirl.

 

“I’m getting you to safety, someone else is going to retrieve them. Hang on!” Florencia can feel herself lift from the ground and it’s not clear what happens from there.

 

* * *

 

 

When Florencia opens her eyes, two women in white coats are watching over her cautiously, taking notes. Another woman, further in the room is watching a screen, a black outfit and a white streak in her dark hair.  The room doesn’t have any windows and the machines in the room aren‘t familiar.

 

“The patient is waking up” One of the two woman in a lab coat looks over another screen, one attached to one of the strange machine in the room.

 

The other woman takes a seat next to the bed and clears her throat. “Miss Rodas? Can you hear me?”

 

Florencia shakes her head, trying to take the situation in a little bit more clearly. “I think I fainted, where am I ?” she tries to sit up, but the woman next to her stops her.

 

“You’re in a government facility and we’re monitoring your health after you got exposed to an alien substance.” The tone is soft and calm. “I’m Doctor Danvers, this is Dr Hamilton and the grumpy one over there, you can call her Astra.”

 

The woman with the white stripe in her hair turns her attention toward Dr Danvers and glares. “Eliza, you can tell the lady that I would prefer she doesn’t speak to me at all.”

 

“Like I said, the grumpy one.” Eliza offers a smile to Florencia, while Astra return her attention to the screen.

 

Dr Hamilton lets out a long suffering sigh as she finishes reading the results. “Brain activity is back to normal and no trace of lasting damage by radiation.”

 

At Eliza’s mention of her last name, there is a gleam of recognition in her eyes. “Are you related to the reporter ?”

 

“That would be one of my daughters, yes.” She square her shoulders and smile wide, almost preening. “You’ve been here for a few hours and as far as we can tell, you’ll make a full recovery.  However, we’d like to keep you under observation until the morning.”

 

“Can I make a call then? I was supposed to cook for a friend tonight.” she pats her legs, finding herself without her phone

 

“If you mean Lyra, Mr Schott got this covered. Your phone will be returned when you leave, it’s a secret facility.”

 

“You know him?”

 

“Yes, he works here and he’s very close to my family.”

 

“So you know my daughter and my granddaughter then?”

 

“I do.”

 

“So do I.” Astra’s eyes narrows at the bedridden woman

 

“Are you her wife?” Florencia asks toward Astra. The strange, foreign haze still clouding her thoughts.

 

Eliza starts laughing, throwing her head back, almost falling down from the stool she’s seated on. She grips the bed’s frame to keep her balance.

 

Astra blinks once and her expression change from utter contempt to complete befuddlement . “What? No! I am not your daughter’s wife!” Her attention turns to Eliza. “Mock me if you will, Greedy One, I will have my revenge.” she leaves the room, closing the door.

 

“What’s so funny?”  Her tone is short, her expression twisted into a frown, she pushes herself away from Eliza, as far as the bed and comfort allows.

 

“She likes to tease people and couples by prematurely calling them wives and husbands. So, you calling her your daughter’s wife is comical.” Eliza stand up, giving space to Florencia, sobering her laughter. “Maggie’s one of her dearest friend. She’s protective of her.”

 

“Ah, I see. I’m glad to know she has people standing for her.” Her eyes close and her head hangs. “I’d like to leave.”

 

“Sadly, I can’t let you leave just like this.  Too risky, but I can see what we can do with the director.  Are you hungry?”

 

“No, not really. I was just done with dinner when I fainted. Who brought me here ?” Flashes of blonde hair in her mind

 

“Supergirl did, she works with us.” Dr Hamilton respond, opening the door to leave, Eliza joins her. “I’ll be right back.”

 

Once Eliza leaves the room, Florencia is left with the quiet noises that the machine in the room makes, the dim lighting is soothing and she closes her eyes, almost falling asleep on the spot.  She hears the door open and the sound of feets pattering on the floor.

 

“I think she’s already asleep” Eliza’s soft voice comes first.

 

“No, I’m just trying to relax. Secret government facilities aren’t the best place to do it.”

 

Winn comes closer “Hey, I’m about to go see Lyra, I’ll make sure she eats okay. Want me to tell her anything?”

 

“Oh, I’ll cook for her whenever I’m out of here.” She opens her eyes. Eliza is looking over one of the machine nearby, Winn is next to the bed and a tall, broad shouldered black man is near the door.  Her gaze settles on the man near the door. “I assume you’re the director?”

 

“I am.” He gets closer to the bed, pats Winn on the shoulder “Agent Schott, go take care of her now.” After he leaves, both Eliza and the Director’s attention turns back to Florencia.

 

“I’d like to be allowed to leave, is there anything I can do to make that happen ?”  

 

“You have to understand that there’s a lot of people worried about what this substance is. If you wish to leave, I have to be sure that you’re not a risk for other people.” he sits on the stool next to the bed. “If the substance gave you an illness, we can’t have you communicating it to the public.”

 

“Great, I might have space flu.” Florencia rolls her eyes. Eliza and J’onn laugh a little.

 

“We have some test we can run to make sure there’s none of that, but they’re not publicly available. You’d have to keep them secret and sign paperwork.” His voice is deep and calm, soothing almost.

 

“The worst of all would be the paperwork, to be honest. There’s a lot of it and Pam is not the friendliest.” Eliza shut down one of the machine and comes back near the bed.

 

“I’ll sign the paperwork, not like I have a lot of people to tattle to. I’m sure I can handle the likes of Pam.”

 

“You’d be able to talk about it with Maggie.” Eliza points out, just before leaving the room, to get the papers from HR.

 

“She knows about this place ?” Her eyes narrow at the man, once Eliza is out of the room.

 

“Yes, she even has an office here.” J’onn confirms, sitting on the stool next to the bed. “She help us out when we need to understand the local alien community or when they need help with their paperwork.”

 

“She helps people from outer space get their residency here ?” The director offers a firm nod in response. “The more I learn about her life, the prouder I am.”

 

“I’m sure she’d like to hear it from you.” J’onn smiles

 

“I don’t think she would. I’m scared of how she’d react.”

 

“I don’t think she’d do anything to hurt you, she wouldn’t take her daughter’s grandma away.”

 

Eliza returns with a stack of papers about an inch thick. “Pam’s been working on streamlining the process, this is half the size of what I had to sign.”

 

Florencia’s eyes widen. “Good thing my wrist is better.”

 

* * *

 

 

It’s been quite a week for Florencia, between the regular visits to Dr Hamilton she has to attend and the increasing demands on her time from her studies. It’s about the first moment she has to herself, sitting in her living room and reading a book titled “Like Water” her glued to the page, her expression twisted by a frown, confusion and discomfort.  She startles when the knock on her door comes.

 

She opens the door and Jamie is there, a small colored box in her hands, leather jacket and jeans in a mirror of what her mother wore when she visited. “Hi! We’re back from New York!” the girl offers the box. “I got you a small present”

 

Florencia knows a mischievous smile when she sees one, she takes the box from her grand daughter’s hands and step back into her apartment. “Come in, did you come over here alone ?”

 

“Uncle Winn’s coming to see Lyra, he gave me a ride, I just ran down the stairs faster than him.” Winn passes behind Jamie and smiles their way, going next door. “Open your gift! I want to see your face!”

 

The grandma lift the lid of the box and pulls the wrapped up mug out of the box, peeling away the paper and setting it aside, she catches Jamie fiddling with the box a bit. Her eyes settles on the mug and the writing on it. To her surprise, the first sound out of her is a laugh. She gives an unconvincing stare and the girl before her. “Oh really, now. You made that into a mug?”

 

Jamie gives her a big smile, showing off the missing tooth and exactly how proud she is of the little prank. “There’s something inside the mug too.”

 

Florencia looks in there and pull out a folded piece of paper, she set the mug aside and after unfolding it, reads it.

 

_::Greetings, Miss Rodas._

 

_Jamie asked me to write you a note to go with the mug she got you.  I am Lena, Maggie’s fiancée (it’s a very recent development, you’re likely the first to know outside of our little family). I would write a bigger letter, but the paper’s format limits the possibilities.  I want to thank you for trying to regain your daughter’s trust, it means a lot to me (and to her, but she won’t admit it yet).::_

 

“Are you okay ?” Jamie place a hand on her arm.

 

“Yes, I will be. Lena’s note juste made me a little emotional.” she set the paper and the mug aside. “I want to ask something to your godfather, think we can go to Lyra, or do you have other surprises for me ?”

 

“No, it’s okay!” she takes Florencia’s arm and both of them go to the neighboring door, knocking.  

 

Jamie is a little too quick to just open the door, catching Lyra and Winn kissing.

 

“Woops.”

  
                                                        


	9. Fixing things (Part 3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maggie Sawyer decides that, after all of the wild events in her life, after all of the high points she experienced while distancing herself from National City, she should give someone a second chance. It's how she finds herself meeting with her mother as she comes out of the NCU.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: Religious Guilt & Mild Homophobia.

Florencia steps out of the National City University. The night already has fallen, there’s a weariness in her walk that betrays the long day behind her. She’s all smile and light however, her current project is coming along and a sense of pride helps her carry her tired feet closer to the nearest bus stop.

 

“Figured I’d find you here.”

 

Florencia jumps, dragged out of her fatigue-induced trance, her free hand flies to rest on her chest as if to contain her heart. “Oh my God, Maggie!”

 

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” She offers an apologetic smile, adjusting a bright pink backpack over her shoulder. “I thought I’d try to catch you on the way back from Jamie’s friend.”  

 

“I suppose you’re here about the alien incident?” The older woman questions, her features tense.

 

“I heard about it.” A nonchalant shrug joins the statement. “I don’t want to bother you with it.” Maggie clear her throat. “I want to talk, can we do that?”

 

The older woman remains quiet for a moment, pushing down the swirl of inner demons resurfacing. She agrees. “We can talk.”

 

“Are you sure?” The younger woman holds one hand up as if offering to drop the suggestion.

 

“I don’t want to ruin this. I’m scared.” An admission that makes her feel a little heavier.

 

“I’m not here to start a fight, or to find a reason to push you away.” She closes her eyes. “I went through rough stuff recently, I figure I should start recovery by trying to play nice.”

 

“Okay, so I can offer my apartment.”

 

There’s a little smile on Maggie’s face too. “Come, I’ll give you a ride home, we can grab takeout on the way.”

 

“I’d rather cook for you again if you don’t mind.”

 

“I was just offering!” Maggie shrugs her shoulder once, she walks away from the older woman, balancing the pink backpack at her side.

 

Florencia follows, rolling her eyes. “I won’t let you get away with paying for a meal for me.”

 

“I wouldn’t be the one paying, it’d be on my girlfriend’s corporate money bags.”

 

“Wouldn’t that be your fiancée’s corporate money bags?” She struggles to match her daughter’s pace at first.

 

“How do you know that?” a smack to her mother’s shoulder, her eyes wide.

 

“She left a note in that cheeky mug my granddaughter gave me.”

 

Maggie laughs in response. It’s every bit the mischievous, boisterous laugh that expresses exactly who her daughter is in her best moment.

 

It’s a sound Florencia hadn’t heard in over a decade. Her heart beat a little faster and her visions blur at the edge, from the tears. “You laugh like your grandma.” 

 

Maggie smiles at the compliment and she grows quiet, whispering the question as if afraid of the response. “How’s she?”

 

“She’s living with Rafael now. She couldn’t bear to live in an empty house..”

 

“How old is she?”

 

“78 years old.”

 

“Damn, she had you young.”

 

“Yeah and Rafael’s older too. I’ve been thinking a lot about family things.”

 

“It’s been so long, I remember I liked his cooking better than Oscar’s.”  

 

“I remember!” Florencia laughs. “She made sure we could feed our family.”

 

She unlocks her car for her mother and slides into the driver’s seat. “Pull the seat back, Jamie doesn’t needs a lot less leg space.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


Music blares out of the radio; the noise a convenient wall between the two nervous women. They’re quiet on their way to the building and then down to the basement and the silence grows uncomfortable as they enter the apartment.

 

Florencia opens the fridge and starts sorting out the meal she’s going to cook, humming a melody to herself as she quickly plans out the meal.

 

Maggie is pacing in the living room, taking in the simple allure of her mother’s living arrangement. It’s a far cry from whatever memories are left of her childhood home.

 

“I thought you wanted to talk” Florencia forces herself to break through the awkwardness, wincing at her own choice of words.

 

“I do. I don’t know where to start.” She joins her mother in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, she avoids getting in the older woman’s way.

 

“Well, start with what you’re hoping for?” She supplies, chopping tomatoes in dice.

 

Maggie looks at the knife moving through the various ingredients as she searches for the answer. When it becomes obvious that her mother is making salsa, she finally finds them. “I’d like to catch you up with my life. I’d like to be caught up with yours.” she almost bends forward with how heavy, how difficult it is to speak the words.

 

“There’s a tissue box on the counter in the bathroom, we’re going to need it.” Florencia wipes at her eyes, she continues working on the meal.

 

They both laugh at the statement

 

When Maggie returns from the bathroom, she set the tissue box on the kitchen counter and she’s already blowing her nose. She finds the trash can instinctively, under the sink. “So, um… should I start?”

 

“Honestly, I don’t have a lot to tell.” She pulls out tortilla shells and Tupperware full of already prepared chicken. “After what happened, we just kept to ourselves. We tried to have another child, but it didn’t work.”

 

Maggie tries to help, but gets rebuked with a sharp smack on her hands and an all too familiar pointed finger guiding her to a seat. She sits at the table instead, watching her mother cook. “Come on! Not even a fight? Or my cousins fucking up?”

 

“One of your cousin, Alejandro, he died in a car crash a few years later. Your father got drunk at the funeral and we weren’t invited to anything else after.” Florencia gives her an apologetic shrug.

 

“Oh.” Maggie grabs another tissue, processing the news of her cousin’s death. “I don’t remember Oscar being a drunkard.”

 

“No, he wasn’t. Maybe he was mourning you, I don’t know.”

 

“I’d suggest he was feeling guilty but I don’t think I could make that claim with a straight face.” She scoffs

 

“You can’t do anything with a straight face.” The old woman jokes casually, offering a thin smile to her daughter.

 

What a shock, her eyes widen and her jaw drops. The reality of her mother making an honest-to-god, good-natured gay joke is too much to process in one sitting.

 

Florencia sets the knife down, wipes her hands on a washcloth and walks to her still stunned daughter. “Was that not okay?”

 

Her daughter blinks once. “It was okay. I never even held the hope you’d ever make a gay joke like that.”

 

“Well, I met a young man, Benjamin, at church. He taught me a few things about your community. I’ve heard a few jokes.” She set a hand on her daughter’s shoulder and squeeze.

 

She leans into the comforting gesture. smiling to her mother “Can I do anything to help out?”

 

“No.” Florencia chuckles and gives one small kiss to her daughter’s head.  

 

* * *

 

“So I’ve caught you up on my very simple life.” Florencia sits on the couch, two tortillas on her plate, she’s facing Maggie directly. “I’ve caught bits and pieces of yours by myself, but I’m sure I’m missing a lot.”

 

Maggie sinks into the comfortable sofa, she retreats in her own mind, letting the moment seep into her. She sinks her teeth in the offered meal and it’s an explosion of memories, each bite brings different moments, a different laugh lost to time. When she’s done eating the first of her tortillas, she shrugs. “This is harder than I thought.”

 

Florencia set her plate down. “Would it help you if I asked you questions?”

 

Maggie gives a nonchalant shrug. “All I can think about is all the meals like this I missed, all the family meetings, all of life’s little moment I didn’t get to have.” She also set her plate down. “All that comes to mind  is the lack of back up I’ve had.”

 

“Then talk to me about all of that. I’m listening”

 

“I didn’t come here to start a fight.” She slides closer to the edge of her seat, her intent to leave clear.

 

“Maybe hearing this will make me upset. Maybe I’ll ask for time alone after it.” Florencia shakes her head at her daughter’s intent, refusing it. “I don’t know if I’m where you need me to be in my own head, but I understand one thing.” She raises her index. “That I hurt you and I need to do better. Even if I haven’t figured what ‘better’ is yet.”

 

“Your help would have been wonderful picking a career.” she starts. “I mean, I’m genuinely happy being in law enforcement and investigative work.” Maggie clears her throat. “I think my choices would have been different if I wasn’t trying to please him.”

 

“He was thrilled to hear about your graduation from the academy. He said nothing, he smiled when he got your letter.” Florencia shrugs once.

 

“What did he do with the picture I sent with it? It’s in the hole in the yard?”

 

Florencia nods in response. “He kept the letter, though.”

 

Maggie rolls her eyes. “I always felt like he was the one that took me out and away. Most of my life I was hoping to impress him enough he’d overlook me being gay. You weren’t on my mind much, not like that.”

 

“I suppose it’s because I always kept myself quiet, but don’t let it fool you, I would have picked his side back then.” Florencia looks at her daughter, she can feel the tension roiling off of her. An old, dimmed, tired energy. “We never really spoke of you after… after we sent you away. I made ridiculous assumptions you’d return.”

 

“I don’t understand why you’d assume that.”

 

“Because at that moment in my life, I hadn’t considered that God isn’t the being the evangelical church presents to their parishes.” She takes a little sip her water “Because I saw your departure from our lives as an analog to the prodigal son’s story. I had faith you’d return to us. That God would help keep your father’s promise of a family.”

 

“I didn’t realize that played this much of a part in it. I’ve been very distant from anything faith-related for most of my life since then.” Maggie admits, expecting disappointment in her mother’s eyes and finding only a soft gaze.

  
  


“Taking you out of our lives was about fear, we feared how everyone would treat us, of what they’d assume. It was about fitting into the community, about keeping our lives simple and living them in accordance to God’s will. All of this stems from how important God and his word are to us.” Florencia smiles a little. “Those are things I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about. It’s the reason I’m pursuing my studies.”

 

“What made you leave Blue springs?” The daughter asks, curious, using another tissue to dab at her tears.

 

“Meeting you and your daughter at the store. your daughter more so.” Florencia takes a deep breath. “I understand it’s not pleasant to hear but when I saw your daughter, all I could think about was how much effort you had put into ‘being straight’. I realized how little we did in comparison.”

 

“Your orientation isn’t a matter of trying.” Maggie protest. “I didn’t get Jamie because I was trying to be straight, I thought I might have been Bi. I thought he was the exception to my rule.”

 

“So I’ve been told. But I saw it this way when I met you at the mall. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be here.” She explains while poking at her food with dimming interest. “I’m guessing he wasn’t right for you?”

 

“He wasn’t. I’m gay and it did not work out. I lost custody of Jamie and I got it back maybe a month before you came here the first time.” She shrugs “That’s a short and clean version of the story. He’s in jail.”

 

Florencia’s vision blurs with tears for a moment. “Your daughter loves you very much, I promise you.”

 

Maggie smiles kindly back at her mother. “I look at you now and I know you’ve made an effort and I’m happy that you did.” Maggie sniffles. “But there’s a part of me that starts hurting every time. I get angry that any of this needed to happen.”

 

“Margarita, I am thankful to God every day that he gave me even the chance to have this kind of moment with you. I pray for him to be magnanimous for you if you never forgive me. Because I know that this isn’t something you should have to do.” The older woman change seat, to take one right next to her daughter. “Your anger at me is my fault. It’s my sin. Perhaps I’ll never fix things between us, but I will not stop trying.”

 

“Jamie loves that you’re trying," Maggie rest her head against the older woman’s shoulders. “If it wasn’t for her, I don’t know if I’d be engaged, I don’t know if I’d be willing to listen.”

 

“I’m glad you got custody of her now.” She gives her daughter a kiss on top of her head. “You’ve already done better than I ever did.”

  
“Can we eat our stuff and just, I don’t know, cut back on the heavy stuff.” She ask with barely contained emotions. 

 

“Of course. I have ice cream for dessert” Florencia returns to her seat, intent on finishing her meal.

 

“Perfect.” They both get a chuckle out of the obvious tremor in her voice.

 


End file.
